Blinded Eyes
by Reigen Doki
Summary: The eyes are the windows to the soul they say. What happens when the shutters fall open and let in some light? Will Kirk and Spock learn something new in their adventures, or will they be too afraid to look? Follow their journey. Sporky, dark, etc...
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own Star Trek.**

**This is going to be progressively dark so consider this a heads up. I mean really messed up occurrences. There are some definitely mature themes to this, and I'm not going to post warnings at the top of chapters, so keep that in mind.**

**Oh. And this will be slowly but steadily slipping into Kirk/Spock, so now's a good time to run away.**

… … .. . .. … …

Jim laughed heartily, patting the alien leader on the back. Being Captain of the Starfleet flagship meant a lot of meetings and first encounters. The tall, thin man was a pale gold color, his braided hair silvery and his eyes like molten copper. The entire race was like that, long swishing tails and dragonfly wings included. They were very superstitious.

McCoy looked up from the little arm he was splinting, cheeks a dull red as his Captain made a joke at his expense. The small boy he was tending to had relaxed visibly though, making setting the bone much easier.

"There. It should be all better soon. Don't use it too much for a while though and no more crazy stunts like that last one." Bones chided, earning a small smile from the young alien.

"You are very good with children Healer McCoy." The tall leader firmly clasped his hand on McCoy's shoulder even as he offered a hand to help him up.

They were also a very tactile race.

Most of Jim's crew was just fine with that. Not so much with his First Officer though. When they first landed, Jim had made an effort to explain that Spock didn't like being touched, but the Vulcan brushed him off, telling him he would endure for the sake of the mission. It seemed the entire crew had taken it upon themselves to attempt to make him eat his words.

Spock and Uhura only ever exchanged small touches, but anyone looking would catch the way she brushed her fingers against his arm or shoulders as she walked past. He was much more reserved with touching her. Jim had only once managed to catch him gently pressing his fingers to her jaw line. The moment ended as abruptly as it began and they both headed their separate ways as though nothing had just happened.

Scotty had drunkenly stumbled into the Commander a few times and once threw his arm around his shoulder. The alien race was very liberal with their alcohol. Spock simply stood straight, finally offering to assist him to his quarters when he nearly slipped to the ground.

Sulu had sparred a couple of times with him for show. A wide variety of people gathered round to watch. Spock had the upper hand in hand-to-hand combat. Sulu was better with a sword. They were both impressive, much to Kirk's chagrin.

McCoy had been inclined to clap a hand on his shoulder any chance he could, relishing the chance to make him squirm. Jim noticed that he never touched bare skin though and was always careful not to linger. Whether it was because he feared the touch telepathy or because he wasn't near as evil as he made himself out to be, he wasn't admitting.

Chekov was another thing entirely though. He had taught the young ones a _special_ hug obviously invented in Russia. It involved grabbing, latching on, and maintaining pressure. Mostly though it seemed to involve flinging yourself at a person and clinging tightly as you attempted to bear them to the ground. It hadn't actually started on the planet, surprisingly.

A few weeks prior, as their shift was ending, Chekov had proposed the crew of the bridge get together for some games. He was met with a resounding yes. Who could say no to that face? Well, other than Spock. Because that's exactly what he did.

Jim barely caught the slight tremble in Chekov's lower lip before the boy snapped back to his proper seating position, mumbling something about understanding. Not a minute later, Jim caught the slight movement in Pavel's shoulders and literally leapt from his seat.

"_Chekov? Are you okay?"_

The entire bridge looked over, and to the young navigator's embarrassment, his silent sobs broke out into loud bawling. Jim and Sulu both had tentatively reached for the boy, being the closest to him, but neither connected, not really sure what to do. Chekov was babbling incomprehensible apologies over and over until finally Spock's voice broke through his wails. Almost immediately the boy was reduced to quiet sniffling.

"_I believe you are under the erroneous impression that I blame you for my mother's death. The only logical person to find fault in would be Nero. Your efforts saved the counsel, my father, and myself. As I have not yet properly thanked you for such, I shall do so now. Thank you."_

The crew was dead silent through his speech. Chekov was practically glittering with pent up admiration, his eyes wide and sparkling and focused on the Commander. It was impressive to see him launch himself at Spock and fling his arms around him. It was more impressive that Spock didn't waver an iota at the impact.

It was just amazing when, rather than push him off or request he release him, Spock gently placed his hand on Chekov's arm, almost in a comforting manner. Exactly two seconds later he returned his hand to his side and six seconds after that Chekov let go of him, fully embarrassed. It was a rare occasion that the young navigator decided to fling himself at Spock, and the latter had never again reciprocated the gesture, but he didn't push him away either.

Doing that had earned Spock a little respect in Jim's eyes. It was good to know the Vulcan took into consideration the needs and feelings of his crewmates.

Jim watched in mild amusement as two young aliens attempted to tackle Spock from behind. One wrapped his arms around the Commander's waist, the other his knees. He didn't waver a bit, looking down at the little girl wrapped around his leg with what Jim imagined was one raised eyebrow. That was always the case.

"I've got a few more trouble makers to patch up. Don't make me come back here and have to deal with you too." McCoy growled, getting his attention as he stalked off with his medical bag.

He grinned in response. Bones was being run ragged by small children needing minor care. And he had to do it all the old fashioned way too, since the people there didn't believe in using science for healing, or something.

A heavy hand settled on his shoulder and Kirk glanced up at the leader with a smile. "He's really good at his job."

"He is." The man agreed, but his smile fell. "I am nearly convinced of the goodness to be found in your federation. It is a warm and welcome place, by most rights."

Kirk's grin dropped immediately and his brow furrowed. "Nearly? Is something wrong?"

The man hesitated before nodding slightly. "I would like to speak with you and your trusted."

Jim nodded, glancing over at Spock. Trusted. That was a funny word to use to describe their relationship, mostly because nothing could be more off. They all insisted on using that word to refer to him though, and he imagined it was a translating error. Maybe not though. It wasn't like he went about explaining their complicated working relationship to everyone he encountered.

Spock caught him staring and tilted his head inquisitively to the side. Jim gestured for him to come over and, with a slight nod, he detangled himself from the children and made his way to the pair. Before he could offer his greetings the leader turned on his heel and began walking. Silently, without exchanging a glance, the commanding officers followed him.

Jim wasn't really one for architecture, but he had been paying some attention to the buildings around him. This room was by far fancier than anything else he had witnessed on the planet. There were high arches and an impossibly tall ceiling made from a white, marble like stone. Rich tapestries of a surprisingly wide selection of colors spanned from roof to floor. The ground was a mosaic of stones, the pattern both pleasing and a little frightening in its complexity.

He couldn't even begin to fathom what they used the room for.

"Lord Vas'akeem?" Spock addressed the man directly.

"I am truly sorry to bother you." Vas'akeem murmured, glancing between the two, "But there is something my people find great concern over. I must ask your participation to subdue these doubts."

As he spoke, the counsel of his planet filtered into the room behind him. Two young scribes carried a flat box between them. Jim smiled at the girls as they nervously placed it down on a small table and looked at him and Spock. They blushed and quickly diverted their gaze to the floor, something Jim was minutely proud of having caused.

"What are we going to be doing?" Jim finally asked.

"Though you are both very open with your crew, there is a wall between you."

Jim glanced with surprise at Spock, who had turned his head to regard him coolly. Their eyes met briefly before darting back to the alien lord.

"Ooookaaaay..." Jim frowned slightly. "And?"

"It is a sacred ceremony that will allow us to judge that wall and should it be necessary, provide aid in lowering it."

"If this is what you deem necessary, and no harm will come to the Captain or myself, than you may proceed."

Jim glanced incredulously at Spock, but said nothing. If he wanted to volunteer to be open, than fine. A happy looking hug, some kind words, and they would probably be out of there. Instead, he nodded politely to the leaders. Immediately the two scribes opened the box, which was emitting a soft glow. Looking closely, Jim realized it was lined with a bioluminescent moss that was fairly common on the planet.

Just not in the pure white adorning the inside of the box.

The glow was enough to completely hide whatever was inside though, much to Kirk's annoyance as he had been trying to peer into it. With a touch of resignation, Jim snapped his eyes back to the leader. That was easy though because the man had turned to the box and reached inside. Kirk realized he had been holding his breath as the man's back straightened again and released it shakily.

The scribes stepped forward before the man turned back. Jim ignored the girl as she lifted his right hand with delicate motions. He was more interested in watching the way Spock stiffened in place, and very nearly yanked his left hand from the other girl as he lifted it himself. Just as quickly they stepped back, noticeably less distraught by his good looks.

Drat.

The leader turned around, carefully holding his hands flat in front of him. In each palm was a small piece of glowing white moss. Oh. Well that made sense. He approached cautiously and placed the moss in each of their outstretched palms. Jim looked down at it with surprise. It was cool, and his hand tingled ever so slightly where it touched.

Beside him, Spock made the same observations, noting the very soft, snow-like quality of the plant. If he was surprised when it rapidly started to heat, his face didn't betray it. Unlike Kirk, who was staring at it with wide eyed wonder.

The moss darkened, first around the edges where it touched their skin, but soon the entire thing was a dark grey. Little fissures of white light held their ground, like bolts of lightning etched into a dark sky. Jim couldn't help but think it was beautiful. The leader and counsel obviously didn't agree.

Clearly distressed murmurs broke out among the group and the leader was staring at them with a mix of horror and pity. A quick glance to his right revealed that Spock was no longer inspecting the mysterious moss, but rather the anxious crowd before them.

"What now?" Kirk asked, exasperated by the looks.

The leader nodded, frowning. "This is far worse than we thought. Far, far worse."

"Because the moss changed colors?" He ignored the subtle glare his Commanding officer was giving him for even asking the question.

"Yes…yes." The man gently took hold of their wrists, frown never falling. "Only the dream moss can decide now what is your punishment."

"Punishment?" Kirk yelped, dragging back on his hand, but not fully retrieving it from the other's grasp.

Spock had tensed immediately, shifting into an aggressive stance simply by slipping one foot gracefully back and lifting his other hand to his side for defense. The man stood up straight in alarm, eyebrows furrowed as his eyes rapidly darted back and forth, not really focused, as though he were searching for some piece of information.

His shoulders relaxed as soon as he found it. "No. I am sorry. Procedure…Decree. Not punishment."

Jim relaxed, but cast a nervous look at Spock, who had shifted immediately back to impassive. He looked back at his hand as Vas'akeem turned it over. He was momentarily fascinated with the fact that the moss didn't fall from his hand, even when turned over. That quickly dissolved into panic as he scrambled to yank his hand from the man, who simply gripped it tighter.

"No! Wait!" Kirk screeched, tugging with all his force.

How strong were these guys? Spock watched him indifferently, obviously not understanding what caused such panic. In spite of his struggles, Vas'akeem placed their hands in one another's. Spock stiffened at that, finally alarmed because of the prospect of touching.

"Your walls are your shackles." The entire room chorused, earning a shiver through the Captain's spine.

It was creepy as all hell. Even Spock's look darkened and he glanced cagily at their hands. The leader released them, stepping back. Like lightning, they both yanked their hands back to themselves.

Except…they didn't.

Not that Kirk was all that surprised. The second he realized it had somehow adhered to his hand, he recognized the potential problems with touching another person. Now, staring at their clasped hands, he could feel his stomach sink. He looked up into the pitch black eyes of his First Officer and tensed. Spock was furious. Kirk decided that wasn't such a bad emotion to focus on and allowed it to paint his eyes, blocking out anything else he might be feeling.

A small part of him registered he was being forced to hold the hand of a touch telepath.

"What have you done?" Spock's voice was the closest a Vulcan could come to a growl, which was surprisingly close.

"It was necessary." The leader defended. "We now know it will be safe to trust your federation."

"Well I'm not so sure we can trust you." Kirk spat, eyes a deep, churning blue. "You can't do this sort of thing! Even if it is common practice in your culture you never do this sort of thing without disclosure!"

"I…" Vas'akeem stared at him in alarm, wide eyes expressing fear and regret. "I am sorry. It was most necessary. And…you did agree."

"Indeed, Captain. It was foolish of me to accept their proposal without full knowledge of the possible consequences." Spock's voice was careful, no longer angry, but rather betraying nothing.

"We both were stupid about it." Jim admitted, shrugging a little. "But from now on you have to let people know these things even if they don't ask."

So much for righteous fury. That last part sounded exasperated. The counsel relaxed, offering them sheepish smiles, so Kirk beamed at them. At least this meant they'd successfully formed an alliance with the planet. Experimentally, he tugged at their hands again, earning a sharp look from Spock.

"How do we get this off?" Jim had brought their hands up to his face, inspecting their connection.

"You must lower your walls." Vas'akeem sounded so happy and proud as he informed them of that. "When you are open with one another, you will be able to move apart."

Jim eyed his stoic Commander warily. "And if we don't?"

The man blinked at them in confusion. "It is impossible."

"I'm…just going to ask Bones to take a look at it." He murmured thoughtfully, offering a weak smile.

"Should we not first sign the documents of your federation?"

"Right…right…uh…" He was pretty sure there was nothing in the books on how to handle this sort of thing.

Spock tugged him along, dragging him from his thoughts. The counsel was leading them from the room, no doubt to where they were keeping the treaties waiting to be signed. With nothing to really focus on, he found himself staring at their hands. How weird was that? Holding hands with Spock.

He was so dead. Assuming Uhura didn't kill him, Bones was going to. He needed the stupid moss off, now. He couldn't last a few hours with this, let alone god knows how long it would take. Spock was a touch telepath. And he couldn't be tethered to someone anyway. How would they perform their jobs? How would they handle normal daily activities? They were stuck with each other. All day. Every day. Until they figured this stupid thing out. If he weren't too busy smiling at the aliens, he'd be panicking.

He watched as Vas'akeem added the small disclaimer that cultural practices should be disclosed, by both sides, before subjecting others to them. With that, he signed off on it and handed it to Kirk, to look over. He'd already read it a dozen times and the little note didn't change much. He placed it down on the table and reached for the pen.

"Are you capable of signing documents with your left hand?"

Jim glanced up at Spock in surprise, even as he quickly put his name on it. "Yeah. I learned during the numerous times my arm was in a cast. I'm basically ambidextrous now."

"I was unaware you ever needed such a primitive healing method."

Jim flinched, grin faltering ever so slightly. "Yeah, well, not everywhere has the best care. Sometimes you just work with what you've got."

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgment, but his eyes studied their clinched limbs more closely. With the treaties signed, Jim took his copy in hand and sealed it in a special envelope. He tried not to chuckle at the old fashioned thing. Some things never changed.

"Alright. Now that we've got that all cleared up…" Jim smiled, retrieving the communicator from his belt. "Is it alright if I get Bones in here?"

"He will not try to remove it, will he?" Vas'akeem sounded mildly distressed.

"No. That probably isn't a good idea." Jim placated him. "But I have the tendency to be allergic to the weirdest things."

If it was at all possible, Spock stiffened even more at his side. "Are you experiencing a reaction?"

"No, but you never know. Best just let Bones look at it."

… .. .

McCoy was not pleased. Not at all. Jim sat patiently on a bench in the city's main gardens, giving Spock an amused look as McCoy turned blue. Eventually he was going to stop ranting and take a breath. Until then, he was going to remain amused.

"Damn it Jim!" Bones panted, huffing at him. "Do you ever think?"

"Heh. Occasionally. So what do you know about this stuff?"

Bones shook his head, look becoming serious. "Not much. You're not allergic, thank god, but there isn't much else I can tell you. I couldn't remove it even if I wanted."

Jim threw up his hands in defeat, successfully dragging Spock into the motion. "Damn. I'm not even really sure what they mean by 'be open' anyway. Sorry Spock."

"Your apology is illogical, Captain." Spock's shoulder was tense, no doubt to stop further movement of his arm without his permission. "Neither of us were aware of such a possibility."

"Well…yeah." Jim shrugged. "But still, you're a touch telepath. This can't be comfortable."

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him, seemingly amused. "I am capable of contact without reading your mind."

"Yeah," Bones slapped Jim on the shoulder. "You should be more concerned with the fact that you're basically making out."

Spock's ears flushed lightly with green as he narrowed his eyes on McCoy. Jim glanced between them quickly, then darting his eyes down at their hands.

"What?"

"I believe Doctor McCoy is referring to a traditional Vulcan kiss, consisting of pressing the first two fingers together." If Jim were brave enough, he'd rake his free hand through the air with a catty 'merow'.

As it was, his face reddened noticeably. "Oh. Sorry. Wow. Uhura's going to kill me."

McCoy burst out laughing, clutching his sides. Jim would kick his shin, but the man looked like he could use a good laugh. Spock straightened his spine indignantly. It really was fascinating just how straight he could get his spine.

"Lieutenant Uhura is not predisposed to violence."

"I was joking." Kirk sighed, rolling his eyes. "Don't pretend you don't at least know what that is."

"You see. That damned hob-goblin is doing it intentionally." Bones lifted himself from the ground, brushing dirt from his pants.

"I guess we should get back to the ship, figure out what were going to do and write up that official report." Jim sighed, attempting to stretch with only one arm.

"Yeah. Good luck figuring out that whole showering thing. I guess you'll need to replicate a few shirts with fasteners on the side too if you want to change." Bones grin widened proportionally to the look of horror on his Captains face.

… .. .

Jim loved his crew. He really did. Sure, when they found out what happened they gave him hell, but it settled down and soon the entire ship was in on some contest to see if they couldn't figure out how to separate them. Uhura hadn't been upset, which confused him. If anything, she was the one most amused by the whole situation.

She kept giving them a knowing look, which was infuriating because Jim had no clue what she knew.

The reports were finally done and he had sent off everything relevant. Pike was going to tease him to no end once he found out what happened. Spock had insisted on a few tests before the day was over, so they spent most of the evening in the science labs, prodding their hands.

Now, he was overseeing a cot being put up in Spock's room. When it came down to deciding where they would spend the night, Jim immediately said his room was out of the question. Between his bookcase, his souvenir cabinet, his chess table, and his work desk, there was barely room for _his_ bed in there, let alone one for Spock too. Spock only had his bed, a desk, and a meditation mat in his room.

With a weary smile, he nodded to the maintenance crew as they left. Spock was looking the room over, satisfied that everything had been put up properly. Jim tugged at the collar of his shirt, trying desperately to ignore the heat in the room. His clothes were already plastered to his skin uncomfortably, but he wasn't about to ask Spock to turn down the temperature in his own room.

The half-Vulcan was watching Jim though, eyes following a bead of sweat as it slid down his temple to drip off of his jaw. He set his mouth firmly, heading farther into his room, tipping Kirk off balance as he did.

"Computer. Lower temperature by three degrees."

Jim snapped his head up, peering curiously at him. "You didn't have to do that."

"Affirmative."

"So…this is awkward." Kirk continued, hoping to have more conversation then they had managed for the entirety of the day.

"I am incapable of such a distinction, Captain."

"Bull." Kirk snorted, flopping down on the cot, tilting Spock with the motion, but not successfully destroying his balance. "It's awkward. We both know it."

Spock shifted to sit on his own bed, which was only a few inches from Jim's cot. "We should prepare for rest. We have approximately 9.73 hours until the start of our shift and you require 7.5 to 9 hours of sleep. I would suggest 8 hours for optimum performance as well as time for us to adequately prepare in the morning."

"Yeah, yeah. What about you?"

"Vulcans do not require as much sleep at Terrans. I will spend the majority of the morning meditating after I wake."

Jim flinched. "I'd rather you'd not."

"Captain?"

"I…no…never mind." He looked away from Spock's eyes, surprisingly warm and chocolate-y when he was analyzing something.

"You fear I will attempt to read your thoughts in your sleep, when you are incapable of refusing me. I will not." Spock sounded ever so slightly like he were surprised Jim would think that.

The look on his face when Jim glanced up guiltily clearly said he thought the Captain was an idiot. He was even a little affronted. His brown eyes didn't harden though, so Jim assumed he was forgiven for his mistrust.

"Sorry." Jim flashed a cool, charming smile.

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him, but said nothing. Glancing down at his shirt, Jim hissed in distaste. How the hell was he supposed to get that off? As if reading his mind (which Jim firmly reminded himself he wasn't) Spock peeled his own shirt most of the way off before silently ripping the sleeve and tossing it aside to be disposed of in the morning. Jim flushed, but copied the motion.

"You know, I don't usually end up stripping in front of people just to sleep." Jim joked, awkwardly avoiding looking at Spock.

The latter raised both his eyebrows incredulously. "Captain-"

"That was inappropriate, sorry." Jim interrupted. "I…yeah…we should get to sleep."

Spock nodded, peeling back his sheets and settling into bed. Jim stretched out on his cot, still too warm to even consider blankets. With a quick command, the room was pitched into darkness. The awkwardness was even worse in the dark. Jim was acutely aware of Spock's hand in his own, linking them through the shadows. He could hear his breathing, perfectly steady and deep.

It was unbearably distracting.

He shifted awkwardly, trying to find a comfortable spot without jostling their arms too much. His shoulder popped from one awkward motion and he cursed softly. He rolled onto his side towards their hands and blinked in surprise to see Spock staring at him. His dark eyes were gleaming with something akin to curiosity. Jim was glad for the darkness, because he was sure he was blushing.

"You are experiencing discomfort."

"Wonderful observation." Jim rolled his eyes. "I'll get to sleep eventually, don't worry about it."

"…I was merely observing."

"Well don't do that either. It's hard to sleep with someone watching me." Jim chuckled, letting his eyes fall closed.

"My apologies. I will stop."

With a final sigh, Jim let a fitful sleep wash over him, slipping into a restless slumber.

… … .. . .. … …

**So yeah. That's the first chapter. **

**It seems Jim's shirts really can't survive a mission…**


	2. Chapter 2

**Don't own Star Trek.**

**In case you're curious, I'm a huge fan of TOS and only recently got around to the new movie. I was surprised by the faithfulness to TOS and by the in jokes.**

**Not that you'd be curious…Enjoy.**

… … .. . .. … …

Jim was paralyzed, eyes shut and limbs stiff. He couldn't breath, his mouth open in a silent scream. There was hot breath on his face, someone he couldn't see. The presence was hovering in his space, just in front of him. The immensity was terrifying.

A heavy hand settled over his mouth, a hazy pressure at best, but suddenly he could breath, and move, and feel warm tears dripping down his face. He struggled for freedom, but the hot breath above him only got closer, ruffling his hair as it ghosted across his face. The hand on his lips moved and he let out a blood curdling scream.

All at once a hand returned to his mouth, but it was slimmer, stronger, and far more tangible. His eyes flew open, something he hadn't be able to do before, and he was met with striking darkness. Not just from the darkened room, but from the eyes hovering over him.

"You must calm down, Jim. You must." Spock's voice was just a tad warmer than usual, even as he repeated his phrase again and again until Jim's erratic breathing returned to normal.

Jim started to talk immediately as soon as Spock removed his hand from his mouth. "I'm sorry. I don't know what happened. I mean, yeah it was a nightmare, but I usually don't…Sorry. That screaming probably hurt your ears. Oh! God. You didn't…feel that dream, or see it or something, did you?"

Spock considered momentarily returning his hand to the Captain's mouth to quiet him before gently shaking his head. "I am fine. My barriers were in place at the time of your dreaming. Are you well, Jim?"

Kirk's brain finally seemed to reboot with that word, his blue eyes widening comically. "You called me Jim."

"My father employed a similar tactic when my mother suffered from distressing dreams. He told me she took comfort in the familiarity of…pet names…in such situations." Spock looked away from him.

"Oh. Uh. Thanks. I'm fine though."

"The tears on your face would indicate otherwise."

Jim cursed vibrantly in several languages, wiping his eyes quickly with he forearm. Spock raised one eyebrow, but said nothing. When the young human's face was free of tears, he glanced over at the older man anxiously. He was still watching. Jim looked away.

"So…how much sleep did I manage to get?"

"You were asleep for approximately 4.485 hours." Spock allowed for the topic change.

"Great…yeah…I should get back to sleep." Jim quickly laid back down, rolling over so he was facing away in spite of the strain on his shoulder. "G'night Spock."

"Captain." Spock answered coolly, almost like the word itself was goodnight.

Jim laid perfectly still, slowing his breath to imitate sleep, though he knew there was no way he was going to be able to do that again. Not after his nightmare. After a few minutes he glanced over to see Spock sitting cross-legged on his bed. His eyes were closed as he carefully breathed in and out. It took him a couple seconds to realize he was meditating.

Spock's features were pointedly blank and yet Jim couldn't help but feel like he'd never seen him more open. It was like staring into a quasar and trying to unravel the galaxy hidden deep within. He would have laughed, comparing the aloof Commander to something defined as remote, a compact body of enormous energy. He would have, if he could draw the breath necessary. He was staring into the face of raw emotion and being swept away in the enigma it produced.

Spock opened his eyes, dark swirling chocolate with strings of crisp ebony. The warmth dancing through those eyes faded to a flat, dark brown and Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Captain?"

Jim inhaled, sharply coming down from the high of his own thoughts. "Yeah?"

"Are you well?"

"I…yeah." He let out a shaky breath. "Your eyes are inhuman…"

Spock's eyes widened, turning pitch black. Jim realized he said something wrong and winced, biting his lip.

"What did I just say?"

"You told me that-"

"No, no, not that. I mean, why did you react like that?"

Spock paused, considering his answer a moment. "My peers often held criticism for my eyes."

Jim paused, mulling it over when Spock didn't continue. It didn't take long for him to realize what they probably teased him about. His eyes were very expressive, something he had noted before. Expressiveness was generally something to pucker your brow at for most Vulcans. He shook his head immediately, frowning.

"It was a compliment. I mean it. It was metaphorical, sort of."

"To what were you comparing my eyes?"

"I'd rather not say." Jim admitted, smiling sheepishly.

"Very well." Spock nodded. "Were you able to obtain more sleep?"

"No. What time is it?" Jim glanced around the room in surprise, not realizing more than a few minutes had passed.

"I have been meditating for approximately 3.5 hours." Spock informed him politely.

"We should probably get up then, our shift starts in two hours."

"1.745, roughly." Spock tilted his head to the side. "It would be best if we prepared for the morning."

Spock stood, stretching gently. Jim watched in unfeigned interest as the muscles rippled under Spock's skin, pulling it taught in aesthetically pleasing ways. Jim shook his head, stretching more overtly, dragging on Spock's arm as he did. He flashed a charming grin when Spock looked his body over, habitually checking for injuries.

"Not bad looking, am I?"

"You fit within the Terran standards for attractiveness."

Jim laughed. "And how about Vulcan?"

Spock inclined his head slightly, a light sage dusting his cheeks. "Affirmative."

"Good. I wouldn't want you to be the only cross cultural hottie." Jim winked.

It was like a light switch, really, how quickly Spock closed off. Kirk quickly realized there was going to be a big problem if his main coping method of flirting sent his First Officer hiding behind his Vulcan training. Jim coughed uncomfortably and began fiddling with the replicator.

"Perhaps we should request someone from maintenance to reprogram the replicator."

"No." Jim replied curtly, focused on his work.

Within a minute, he let out a triumphant holler and instructed the replicator to make what he had just programmed. It produced a deep, science blue shirt with silver zippers on both sides. Spock raised a single eyebrow as he inspected the shirt, taking note of the changes, but said nothing. Jim assumed that was a sign of approval and quickly replicated his own shirt and a pair of pants since he didn't feel like heading all the way to his room.

The gold shirt was adorned with black fasteners, rather than zippers. It was, in most respects, unchanged from the standard uniform. Jim hadn't replicated the typical black undershirts for them though, simply placing a trimming so it would look like it was there.

"I hope you don't mind I used a thermal material for your shirt. Figured you didn't want to get cold." Jim said flippantly as he inspected his replicated shirt to ensure it came out right.

"That is acceptable, thank you. We should shower and eat before our shift."

Jim clutched a little tighter at his change of clothes, feeling a bit lightheaded as the blood drained from his face. If Spock noticed how pale he was, he said nothing.

… .. .

Showers were not made for privacy. They had managed to work it out, but with much twisted shoulders and awkwardly standing outside the shower waiting on the other person. Dressing was…interesting. Spock had managed to completely dress himself before exiting the shower, without getting any residual liquid on his clothes. Kirk did not.

After struggling into his pants, completely soaking the hem, he tumbled out of the shower with his shirt half on. Apparently the clasps he designed weren't so easy to use single handedly. He was getting it, but it was going to take a bit longer than he thought.

Luckily, his hero so kindly stepped in and did it for him. Spock actually commented on how stiff Kirk went when he began fastening the latches over his ribs. Rather than thank him, Jim nervously told him he could handle it himself, practically snapping in the process. After pulling on their boots in silence, they headed to the commissary to eat.

Jim looked the room over while Spock worked the replicator, waving to random crew members and grinning at everyone. He was startled from his morning greetings by a tray being shoved in his hand. Spock returned to the replicators to order his own breakfast, leaving Jim staring at his tray.

It consisted of a lightly sugared grapefruit, two eggs sunny side up, two slices of toast just golden brown, a cup of coffee, and a few slices of bacon. Jim couldn't help the wide grin splitting his face as he casually leaned against his First Officer.

"Ordering my favorite meal…you don't watch me eat breakfast or something, do you?" His voice was dripping with a teasing tone that went completely unnoticed.

"The replicators store records of the meals each crew member has ordered. This arrangement was most frequently requested by you." Spock almost sounded curt, almost.

Jim huffed and dragged Spock off to a table in the corner. He wasn't surprised to see the man's tray had a bowl of mixed fruit, toast slightly darker than his own, and a cup of tea. He would admit to watching the other man eat. For curiosity, of course. He watched a lot of his crew eat just to learn a little about their preferences and personalities. Bones said it was creepy. Jim thought it was thorough.

Speaking of Bones, Jim would give anything to have the grumpy man eating breakfast with them. At dinner, they were so busy being prodded by various staff with devices for it to be awkward. Now he was sitting across from Spock, holding his hand and eating breakfast. He was half tempted to ask the computer to take a photo using security feeds and add the picture to the dictionary entry for awkward. He wasn't really sure he wanted this moment immortalized though.

"Lieutenant." Spock's voice broke him from his reflections.

Uhura sat down next to Spock, her tray of tea and cereal accompanying his on the table. Jim wished her a good morning and she fixed him with a solid look that had him squirming.

"What?"

"This could be good." She smiled, sipping the hot liquid carefully.

"To what are you referring?" Spock inclined his head slightly.

"You two being stuck together."

"How could that be good?" Kirk tried not to laugh and almost succeeded.

"I must reflect the Captain's sentiment."

"Oh come on Spock." Uhura rolled her eyes. "Just the other day you were telling me that you wanted to be friends with Kirk."

"He did?" Jim perked up, eyes practically sparkling.

"I said no such thing." Spock hadn't even turned to look at Jim, so he missed the turbulent shift in his eyes leaving them almost dull and broken.

Uhura did catch it though and stood angrily, absurdly disturbed by the look in her Captain's eyes. "I'm so sorry for paraphrasing. I forgot that wasn't allowed."

"Whoa, hey. No need to fight over me." Jim smiled at her, trying to get her to sit again.

She rolled her eyes, partially placated, but still glaring towards Spock. "Fine. But cutting out some of the explanation, what you said was: "For the benefit of the crew and our mission, the Captain and I should set aside our differences and work together. I would not be adverse to eventually finding benefit from his company." And that basically means you want to be friends."

Spock inclined his head slightly, but with a definite Vulcan frown. "I will allow for your familiarity with colloquialisms to be applied to my own words."

Jim grinned, beaming at the pair across the table. Uhura smiled back, but Spock jolted, wiping his head around to look at him. The furrow in his brow deepened momentarily before he wiped all emotion from his face. His eyes were the intense brown that reflected his curiosity as he scrutinized Jim.

For a split second, he could swear he felt something akin to terror washing through their connected hands.

Jim was wearing his usual smile though, warm and irrationally open. Too open, in fact. Spock found himself illogically tempted to probe the emotions behind that smile, but the invasion of his Captain's privacy was reprehensible. Even _if_ a small, human part of him insisted that if he did not want his emotions scrutinized he should not wear them so openly.

Jim's smile faltered as he shied back across the table, cheerful blue eyes taking note of the intense brown inquisitiveness. Spock's eyes flicked to a dull, dark brown and he returned to his meal, avoiding eye contact.

"So." Jim looked back at Uhura, smiling again. "How do you feel about your boyfriend sharing a room with the all time playboy of the universe? I could be a bad influence."

Uhura snorted, shaking her head. "He's not my boyfriend. And you're not that good."

"What?" Jim glanced heatedly between the two, noting how Spock continued to ignore him. "But I saw you two kissing! And touching!"

She outright laughed at him. "We're good friends. Very good. We only kissed in the heat of the stress. And friends can touch you know."

"Seriously?" Jim laughed, glancing at Spock, who had looked up from his meal to watch Uhura. "You're not interested at all?"

"Oh come on. I wouldn't go for a married man!" She said indignantly.

Both Spock and Jim straightened in their seats, their postures reflecting each other perfectly. Jim gawked openly at his First Officer, the revelation flooring him. Spock's eyes darkened ever so slightly, narrowing only so much that someone looking for it would see.

"At no point have I ever been wed."

"You were betrothed. It's basically the same thing."

"You were betrothed?"

"My intended was chosen for me upon my seventh birthday, yes."

"Jeez Uhura! Kissing a guy that's been engaged that long! Wait, is that normal?"

"Almost all Vulcans get engaged at seven."

"I hardly see this as any of the Captain's business, Lieutenant."

"Why aren't you married now?"

Spock inhaled sharply and Uhura cast him a dark look. Jim winced, realizing what he said as soon as it left his lips.

"I'm sorry."

"It is illogical for you to apologize. T'Pring and I had not maintained contact with each other after the twelfth anniversary of her birth."

"Still…" Jim glanced at Uhura, as though she could provide some sort of idea on how he was supposed to apologize.

"I do not wish to discuss this further. We must report to the bridge for our shift." Spock cleared his tray and stood, effectively dragging Kirk into a half standing position.

He awkwardly trailed after Spock to dispose of their trays, casting a hopeless look in Uhura's direction as he was made to leave. She was already moving, cleaning up so she could report for her own duties. Being half dragged by his Commander allowed him to stare blatantly at the man's back as they stalked up to the bridge.

He'd never imagined Spock was engaged. They'd never talk about that kind of thing normally, but he was intrigued by the insight. Was Spock attracted to her? Did her loss hurt him as much as the loss of his mother? What was she like? Were they close? Spock said they hadn't seen each other since they were children. What happened the last time they were together?

It was frustrating, getting small glimpses of his Commander. It was like being handed the ends of strings and being showing the knotted mass they led him to. Each end he was handed lead to a worse knot, rather than provide a clue on how to unravel it.

Most of the crew was already at their post or languidly chatting as they settled into place. Spock actually hesitated a moment, glancing at the Captain's chair. Jim trotted happily forward though, continuing to Spock's work station and leaning against the console. Having followed him, naturally, Spock settled into his seat and proceeded to pour over his work, straightening out everything he would need for his shift.

"All right everybody." Jim called for everyone's attention once they were in place. "We're leaving this system and stopping by the closest Sarbase to deliver our important documents and all that jazz."

He was met with a few chuckles.

"You all know what to do. Sulu, take us out of here."

"Yes Sir." Sulu grinned, "And no grinding the gears this time."

The crew laughed with him as the ship lurched forward into warp. Sulu was still giving himself a hard time over that parking break incident. Just a week ago he had come to Jim, asking him to teach him various terms regarding old fashioned cars, so he wouldn't miss something like that again. Jim reminded him that the crew survived because of that little delay even as he agreed. With luck, he'd get his whole crew admiring classic cars.

It was important to him that Sulu came to him. He could have asked Scotty, or Bones, or even looked it up on the computers. He trusted his Captain though. It was tough the first few weeks, but apparently requesting by hand that each and every one of them maintain their positions on his ship had done quite a bit to shine the right light on him. It had taken a lot of work looking up the names of the individuals serving in every position. Four hundred and some hand written applications for personnel took something out of you, but it was worth it. After seeing how the ship ran with near perfect efficiency during the Nero incident, he would trust no one else to handle his ship.

Spock's joining the crew seemed to cement the fact that he was at least partially competent.

Truth be told, he hadn't asked for Spock. Not formally. He had verbally bugged every single member of the Admiralty about what he might be doing once everything settled down. He honestly expected Spock to go assist in the colony. Not that he didn't make a point of drilling Pike on just how good the science facilities were on the Enterprise. He'd been so absent minded about it that he didn't realize he hadn't appointed a First Officer until the morning they were scheduled to leave.

Pike insisted it would all work out and he could send notice of his appointment back to Starfleet once he had decided.

He wasn't sure about Spock, but he was certainly surprised to find that Pike had already approved the Vulcan as his First Officer and Chief Science Officer.

Looking over his crew, he couldn't help the small, genuine smile on his face. Crazy was common place for them. They were baptized by fire and now they walked through without flinching. Even this situation was being regarded as nothing but the utmost normal. Everyone was more interested in the science behind the shackle-moss, as engineering had come to call it, than the actual physical repercussions of it. No one looked at them like they had done something glaringly incompetent.

Well, other than Bones and that was just how he viewed everyone.

He knew, just watching them, that his crew could function just fine without him. They were the best of the best, prodigies in every right. He could place his implicit trust in them and they would deliver fully. They'd deliver even if he didn't place his trust in them. And, for better or worse, they were trusting him. He just hoped he got the chance to deliver too.

"Captain?" Spock's voice sounded hesitant, but was loud enough to draw the entire crew's (not so) subtle attention.

"Hm? Yeah?" Jim glanced down to see Spock staring up at him, expression a muted version of childlike wonder.

"Your emotions are…exceptionally strong…" He dared to allow the slightest trace a green creep into his cheeks. "I find it difficult to block them fully."

"Oh." Jim flushed brightly, aware that his crew was not openly watching them. "Sorry."

"Your apology is unnecessary. However, I find myself curious." Spock admitted with some trepidation.

"Yeah? Shoot." Jim flashed him a wide grin.

A suspiciously false look of alarm passed through those dark eyes. "I am disinclined to fire upon you."

Jim snickered. "It's cool as long as you use questions as ammo."

Spock's eyebrow twitched up in response, even as the crew snickered behind him. "Very well. The emotion you were experiencing with such force is foreign to me. If it is not too great of an invasion, would you explain it to me?"

Jim's jaw dropped open. Everyone assumed it was because Spock was openly asking him to explore his emotions. That was why their mouths had fallen open. They couldn't imagine the mixture of pity and horror flooding through him at the thought of what Spock was missing. He felt he did a good job of keeping Spock from noticing too as he focused on the thrill of Spock relying on him for an answer. Judging by the expectant look in his eyes, he assumed he was right.

"It's no problem at all!" Jim beamed. "I bet you already know a bit about it, but it's just good old fashioned hubris."

The crew jolted with surprised, suspicious looks on their faces. That wasn't seriously it, was it?

"What elicited this emotion?" Spock was leaning forward ever so slightly, eyes focused solely on the Captain.

"My crew." Jim's smile softened. "I'm proud to have such an awesome crew."

Some of them shifted awkwardly in their seats, faces heated with embarrassment at the praise.

"It is a very complex emotion." Spock nodded thoughtfully, scientific background shining through as he analyzed what he was told.

"Yeah. You should try it some time." Jim laughed, trying to feel a little less embarrassed by the sudden scrutiny.

"I have no need of pride, Captain." Spock turned back to his station, closing off again.

The crew returned to their own work, snapping their eyes away rapidly as if to pretend they weren't watching. Jim sighed, leaning more heavily on Spock's work station and glancing down at the screen to see what he was doing. Spock's long fingers flew over the console, dancing nimbly like a pianist performing a melody known by heart. Jim found himself distracted by the deft appendages.

It was like the man worked magic at his console, so in his own habitat that he never imagined making a single mistake.

He felt a touch of pride at having Spock with him on the ship. And was promptly reminded not to let it get too out of hand. Spock may not be actively probing him for his emotions, but apparently feeling too strongly could still get something across. He'd remember that. Remember, and keep a close eye on it.

He wouldn't want to be an inconvenience.

… … .. . .. … …

**So yeah…I'll try to make sure that, even as it gets darker, there is plenty of humor in this story. Smack me if I forget. Not that we're anywhere near dark yet.**

**Bit of character background going on…how terrible is that? **

**And no, Uhura will not be dismissed so easily.**


	3. Chapter 3

…**Still don't own.**

… … .. . .. … …

Jim was nothing if not theatrical when he wasn't being responsible. The fact that his current display of immaturity had managed to drag his Commander into it was just a testament to how devoted he was to his art.

With an overtly repressed sigh of resignation, Spock desisted in his attempt to pull the illogical Captain from where he had firmly grabbed a table and refused to move. He had latched onto the bolted down table as they headed past and refused to get back up. The entire commissary was watching them with beleaguered amusement. Bones was, particularly, regarding him with a mixture of subdued endearment and irritation.

Well, the endearment was subdued, anyway.

"You wouldn't be so exhausted, Jim, if you didn't just spend all your strength clinging to a table for your dear life." Bones snorted, responding to the Captain whining at how tired he was.

"I've been emotionally and physically tried! Have you no sympathy for me?" Jim didn't dare remove his hand for fear Spock would take advantage of the moment.

Spock inclined his head. "Nourishment would improve your physical wellbeing, Captain."

"I'm too tired to go over there." Kirk insisted, waving their joined hands towards the replicators.

"You need to eat." Bones insisted, exasperated.

"My point exactly." Jim grinned. "Which is why you should get me and Spock food."

"No, Jim. The walk won't kill you."

"My legs are tired. I don't think I can stand." Jim moaned, eyes dancing with mirth.

"If that is true, Captain, I would suggest a visit to Sickbay. Doctor McCoy may be able to provide you with a hypospray to alleviate that problem."

Jim gaped openly at his First Officer in horror. How could he suggest such a thing? McCoy actually grinned up at the Vulcan, willing to unite on the front of torturing one James T. Kirk. Jim groaned in complaint, slamming his head into the table with a dull thunk, promptly followed by a soft 'ow' as the room burst out with laughter.

McCoy's back went ridged with alarm as Spock came up behind the Captain, uncommonly close. Spock looped his left arm, the one connected to Jim's hand, over the captain's head, forcing Jim's arm to lay across his chest. He released the table with a jolt, suddenly very aware of how close his commander was standing to him, his own arm draped across his waist to meet Spock's at his hand as he drew his left arm up against his chest.

All at once he could feel himself being turned, Spock's arm stretched across his back as his was pinned between them. Then he was being hauled up by the waist and slung over the stronger man's shoulder in such a quick motion that he had no time to complain. From his new position, Jim was able to see the stunned, jovial faces of the people eating lunch.

He started laughing, breaking the dam of silence and opening the floor for people to show their amusement.

Spock, now sporting a starship Captain over his shoulder, turned to head to the replicators. McCoy was attempting to scowl, because he refused to encourage anything Spock did. Jim was attempting to get his breath back, eyes glinting with amusement.

"You can't just throw me over your shoulder!" Jim laughed, beating lightly on Spock's back with his free hand.

"If you are to behave as a child, I will treat you as such."

"I can't really picture your dad throwing you over his shoulder." McCoy nearly crashed into the pair when Spock stopped.

"He did not." The Commander placed Jim back on the ground. "My mother was quite strong for one so small, though I was much younger at the time."

This time, McCoy did laugh. He and Jim had both seen pictures of Amanda and, aside from being unfairly beautiful, she was terrifyingly unimposing. The mental image of her with a small Spock thrown over her shoulder, taking him somewhere he didn't want to go, was simply too good to be true.

"I find it likely you are amused by imagining such occurrences." Spock mostly ignored them, ordering his meal.

"If you want to treat Jim like a child, let me give you a suggestion." McCoy flashed a wide grin at Kirk. "Try administering an ancient Earth custom called a spanking. It's a form of punishment administered to spoiled brats."

Jim flushed, turning from where he was working the replicator. "That's not funny!"

"If you weren't too big for it I'd have turned you over my knee myself." Bones growled. "You deserved it after all the stress you've caused me."

"Heh. Sorry Bones." Jim chuckled, being dragged back towards a table to eat his lunch.

Bones followed them as soon as he had his own meal. Even as he started eating, he pulled his tricorder out, scanning the pair. Jim groaned, flicking a piece of his food across the table at him.

"Do you have to do that while I'm eating?"

"I've got half an hour for lunch and them I'm back in Sickbay dealing with Taloosian bird flu for the rest of the night. You think these idiots would get the damn pets they buy checked _before_ they bring them on the ship." Bones read over the recorded information, vaguely bored.

"Do you think Scotty would let us borrow his tribble for a reenactment of the Great Tribble Hunt?"

"Allowing it to reproduce would not be advisable, Captain." Spock raised an eyebrow at him, no doubt questioning his sanity.

"No, no. Just the one will do." Jim insisted.

Jim continued to attempt to persuade them for the rest of lunch. They continued to tell him no. Somehow, though they were on the same side, McCoy and Spock managed to fight over something. Honestly, Jim wasn't paying that close of attention. He was tired and hungry. Naturally, his food took most of his attention. He couldn't help the satisfied smile, though, when it was finally time to return to the bridge.

… .. .

"Captain! Captain!" The entire bridge turned around to see the young Ensign that ran into the room shouting.

Jim figured there was about three minutes left on their shift. "Yes, Ensign?"

"Could you and the Commander join us in the science department? We have an idea we'd like to test." He bounced on his heels, rocking back and forth.

Jim smiled. There were so many young crewmembers. It was nice to see how energetic they all were. He recognized this Ensign as a twenty year old Junior from the academy that had been assigned to the enterprise due to the emergency to fill in on a missing position. The science department had been spread pretty thin across the fleet.

He actually had a few Juniors on his ship, though few as young as this one. He had convinced Starfleet that the seniors on his crew could ensure they finished any necessary training. How he had actually managed that, he had no idea. He imagined if he got all the crewmembers under twenty-five together in a room, the excitement and cuteness would cause an implosion and warp time-space. And Chekov would be at the center of it.

He coughed, displacing that thought and grinning at the young man. "Sure. Just let us finish up here."

As he spoke, the skeleton crew entered the bridge, ready to relieve only the most important of duties. Spock was quietly filling his replacement in, as usual, as the Ensign listened closely, genuinely excited. When he was satisfied that everything relevant had been mentioned, Spock turned to regard the star struck young man watching him.

"Ensign Lynn." Spock nodded to him, acknowledging that they were ready to go.

They man nearly sprinted out the door, almost bowling over a few of the bridge crew in the process. Jim and Spock followed at a quick pace, the first shaking his head at the young man's enthusiasm and the latter raising an eyebrow as he observed the behavior.

When they reached the labs, a group of three other young Ensigns stood waiting. Every one of them looked as excited as the young man to see them, encouraging them to sit as they gathered their equipment and prepared for their test.

"What are you attempting to ascertain?" Spock asked , watching the group work.

"Well," A pretty young woman, roughly twenty-six, beamed at them. "Harvey, I mean, Ensign Lynn, noticed that certain forms of the moss on the planet seem capable of communicating."

"Communicating?" Jim frowned. "Like…they're animals?"

"Not even close." Lynn smiled, nervously as he attached a few sensor's to Kirk's temples. "They're not conscious, actually, but it's like a way for the moss to find areas suitable for life."

"Most unusual. How do they communicate?" Spock applied his own sensors.

"Through telepathy." A third scientist offered enthusiastically, fiddling with the machines.

"See," The fourth, one Jim recognized as a geologist, interrupted, "The stones on the planet give off faint traces of the same kind of electromagnetic waves found in living creatures. Unlike most living creatures, though, these are similar to those found during telepathy."

"The moss feeds off of these waves," The girl continued. "So it latches on when it finds them and undergoes a physical change to attract spores. Once a large enough amount is amassed for it to safely grow on its own, it returns to its normal state and is easy to remove. Until then it becomes very adhesive."

"We hypothesized that the Ke'ruvians posses a minor form of touch telepathy to facilitate emotional identification. So when they, unconsciously, don't want to be close to someone, they form a steady barrier of emotion similar to the single wavelengths of the stones. Which is why, being in close proximity, the moss would detect it and latch on until the barrier was lessened." The one working the machines concluded.

"Fascinating." Spock quirked an eyebrow, looking at their hands. "And these test are to determine the similarity of our own thought waves with those of the rocks."

"Well, sort of." Lynn admitted. "We're not entirely sure yet, but we think they may just latch onto a specific type of brainwave. If that's so, we can run a few tests to see just how little of it needs to be present for the moss to decide it has the ideal amount for surviving and, perhaps with a neural inhibitor, or your own attempts, we could fool it into removing itself."

"A sound experiment." Spock inclined his head with a slight nod. "You may proceed."

"Wait." Jim interrupted, earning surprised looks from the scientists. "That's great and all, and believe me, I trust you, but I'm pretty sure the moss would starve to death if it attempted to latch on to me. I'm not exactly known for emotional control."

"That's part of what we're trying to figure out." The technician frowned.

"Maybe it just really likes me." Jim smiled, earning a few chuckles.

The technician turned the machines on and soon they began asking simple questions.

"What do you think of the Captain?" The young woman asked.

"What is the relevance of this question?"

"We're attempting to ascertain certain mental bases. The questions will assist in determining minor fluctuations and the reaction of the moss." The tech tapped a sensor they had placed close to their hands, attempting to take note of the moss.

"Very well. Proceed."

"What do you think of the Captain?" The woman asked again, holding a small recording device to keep track of his answers.

"He is inexperienced and impetuous." Spock noted the mock hurt look on Kirk's face and continued to speak. "However, he also possesses inherent talent and an unusual ability to forge alliances rapidly."

Jim beamed, earning a strange look from the technician. He wasn't beaming on the inside. Not much, anyway. The simple way Spock summed him up left him feeling a bit hollow. Impetuous he could handle. Hell, it was probably the only thing he really had going for him. It was still reckless even if it worked.

It was inexperienced that got him every time.

He had busted his chops throughout the academy. His work load had been over loaded just to fit four years of education into three. Every minute of free time he could, he spent doing extra projects and taking extra courses. He volunteered in every program and often helped in others' projects to get work hours in. More than once Bones had forcibly dragged him away from a project to rest. He only took his weekends out when Bones told him he had been cooped up too long and would get a hypo to the neck if he didn't. More often than not Bones hypoed him anyway for getting drunk and going home with some stranger.

He was getting off topic…

Jim was constantly trying to prove himself, but people saw him as inexperienced and someone who only got wherever he did because of his last name. Honors classes were because he should have inherited some kind of talent. He couldn't work on certain projects because he was just a kid and wasn't even on that track. He must have cheated to get the good grades he did.

Maybe uploading a subroutine in the Kobayashi Maru hadn't been the best way to dissuade people of that last one.

"A-are you currently in any relationship?" Jim noticed the light blush on her face.

Oh.

"Define relationship." Spock seemed completely oblivious of her crush. "As there are multiple forms I must assume you are inquiring about one specifically."

"A…um…_romantic_…relationship." The boys snickered a little.

"I am not."

Jim was starting to get unnerved by the way the technician kept glancing at him. It was like they were waiting for him to interrupt or something. He was beginning to suspect there was something he wasn't being told. All in all, it was not something he liked.

"What are your thoughts on your current situation, with the Captain?" She tried not the beam at the previous information.

"It is an immense hazard and an inconvenience."

Jim snorted. "No shit."

Everyone turned to look at him. Sometimes he should just shut up.

"I believe it is safe to assume Commander Spock has quite high levels of mental control and telepathy." The technician drawled, rolling his eyes at Kirk. "We may be more fruitful in ascertaining the mental capacities of our Captain."

"Oh really?" Jim narrowed his eyes, frowning at their implications.

"Alright," The girl sighed. "Captain, what do you think of Commander Spock?"

If everyone else regarding him weren't disconcerting enough, Spock was watching him closely. He felt his mouth go dry, biting his lip to think. He really tried not to think about him.

He tried not to think too hard on the reasons behind _that_ too.

"Uh…he's really smart and reliable?" He smiled weakly.

"Could you phrase that anything like a proper answer, and not a question?" The geologist scoffed.

"Sure." Kirk chuckled. "I think Spock is an asset to the Enterprise."

"Thank you." The girl drawled dryly, narrowing her eyes at him. "Lets see, we already know you're opinion on the situation so…What is your opinion on Starfleet regulation code-"

"Hey wait!" Kirk interrupted. "Why do you ask him about relationships but not me?"

"I don't think I want to know about your relationships." She fixed him with a wholly, inappropriately disgusted look.

"Whoa. Insubordination much? I'm hurt."

"No you aren't." The tech offered helpfully.

"Still." Jim rolled his eyes at the man. "Don't believe everything you've heard about me. Ninety percent of everything is utter crap."

"That is an arbitrary assessment, Captain, and highly unlikely." Spock considered him ardently, as though his very speaking were a blight.

Jim wasn't sure if he should take it as an insult or not.

"If it's personal questions you want, Captain, then fine." She nearly growled. "What was your reason for joining Starfleet?"

Jim froze, half-smile slipping from his face. Three years ago, he would have said he did it out of spite. Perhaps even a death wish, since that's all he saw it as. Two years ago, he would have said he was bored out of his genius mind and it took the edge off for a while. He needed a distraction, and learning was good for that. A year ago, he would have said he joined because that was the only place he could get access to the things he wanted. Sure, his list included warp cores, women, and Romulan ale, but the point was that he got access to a lot of things he couldn't have before.

Two months and three days ago, he have said he did it out of spite.

Two months ago, he met an alternate, older version of the man who chose to become his first officer. Two months ago, he learned more than he ever cared to know about an alternate future, an alternate life, he'd never had in just a few well placed sentences. Seven and a half weeks ago, he sat in his rooms, with Bones, laughing bitterly over a glass of Saurian brandy, a jigger of Kanar and a shot of Aldebaran whiskey. They were celebrating the night of his promotion.

Now, he offered a genuine laugh. "I guess, the more things change, the more they stay the same."

"Captain?" Lynn frowned.

"Nothing. I was just reminded of an old friend." Jim waved it off, smiling. "My inspiration for joining was my father."

Spock shifted in his seat, turning to face Jim a little more. He glanced over to see the man's eyes, inquisitive as ever. He couldn't even begin to imagine what Spock must have been thinking. He was fortunately spared from the man's question, lingering in his eyes, by the disgusted sound the technician made.

"Damn it Lynn, what did you do wrong?"

"What? No. I did everything just fine. Just like every other time I've set this damn machine up." Lynn huffed, flushing as he was suddenly the center of attention.

"What is amiss?" Spock inclined his eyebrow.

"Our Captain apparently has the emotional range of a teaspoon, that's what." The geologist growled from over the technician's shoulder, eyeing the data on the screen.

"Hey!"

"Seriously." The tech stood up, double checking the sensors. "Do you feel _anything_ other than vague happiness?"

"Yes." Kirk insisted, pouting. "I'm just not upset or anything."

"Charming." The girl rolled her eyes. "Our ship's being run by a man who doesn't care about anything."

Jim's spine straightened in an impressive imitation of his First Officer. "That isn't the way to go about upsetting me, sorry. It is a good way to make me consider mandatory classes on insubordination though."

She flushed, looking horrified and ashamed. Her mouth fell open to reply, but Spock interrupted.

"I suspect your amiable nature tends to result in a more casual presence than is befitting of a Captain. Perhaps a more reserved, or distant presence would be beneficial."

"Excuse me?" Jim tried unsuccessfully to keep the snarl from his voice. "There's nothing wrong with familiarity and trust. I want the people on my ship to be able to approach me, no matter what the problem is."

"They are unlikely to come to you with any serious problems due to the image you portray as lacking the authority to do anything."

Jim jumped from his seat, nearly yanking the sensor from the table. "Maybe if you weren't constantly undermining it, my authority would appear just fine and your lackeys wouldn't be inclined to do the same!"

"Holy shit!" Lynn brought everyone's attention to the monitor.

"What?" Jim frowned, leaning over in an attempt to get a look at it, and being denied by his tether to a less than cooperative Vulcan.

"Hey," The girl murmured thoughtfully, glancing up from the screen. "Captain, is it true you turned down an Orion animal woman's offer for drinks?"

Jim grimaced, sitting back down quickly. Way to divert the topic. They were all looking expectantly at him, even Spock was interested to know the answer. He briefly considered the possibility that this Q&A session was just to ask them silly, embarrassing questions in an attempt to get racy background information on them they could spread through the ship. If that was the case, he wasn't afraid of being indignant in front of them.

"She was no slave, so don't even allude to that." He openly snarled. "And she took suppressors. Not fool proof, but she was trying."

The young Ensigns recoiled, looking shocked and upset. The woman was even openly apologetic.

"Sorry." Jim sighed, wiping his free hand over his face. "It's just…the last thing I ever did was misuse her trust in me. I told her it was…weird…that she thought she loved me."

"You are referring to the cadet who served in the computer labs." Spock observed the surprise on Kirk's face.

"That's right, you knew her. She always talked about how the Vulcan professor never gawked at her like everyone else did." Jim smirked. "I think she liked you…wait, did she tell you about all that…between me and her?"

"We discussed you momentarily after I discovered your use of her computer to upload the subroutine."

Jim grimaced. "It wasn't like I wanted her to get in trouble."

"I think we figured out why the moss likes you." Lynn interrupted, looking dazed.

"Oh?" The Captain snapped his attention back to the group, glad for yet another abrupt change of discussion.

"Yeah, you're shallow." The tech held a similarly astonished expression.

"What?" Jim asked flatly, not at all thrilled by the declaration.

"Emotionally," the woman clarified, earning a confused look from her Captain. "You really wear your emotions on your sleeve."

Jim grimaced. If only they had any clue. Well, maybe not.

"It's amazing, though." The technician continued. "The emotional changes are rapid. It switches so fast that there's no real inconsistency, and the emotions are steady. No wonder the moss thought you had shields up."

"What exactly does that mean?" Jim tilted his head to the side, glancing at Spock.

"It means you don't really do complex emotion." Lynn didn't seem satisfied, nose scrunched in thought.

Because he was mostly facing Spock, Kirk saw his eyes shift to pure black, irises indeterminable from his pupils. No one else would probably read anything into the look and, if the reaction the Ensigns were giving the monitor was anything to go by, he still had complete control of his emotional barriers. Jim recognized the look as something indicative of the phrase 'busted'.

Of course he was busted. Spock had been there for the incident on the bridge. He was the whole reason there was an incident on the bridge.

Jim stood abruptly, much more carefully than the first time, and started pulling sensors off. "Well, I'm glad you got that over with. I'm hungry though, because sitting here made me late for dinner."

Spock stood carefully, gently removing his own sensors. "Do not allow your reviewing of this information to interrupt your regular duties. If we must, the Captain and I shall endure each other's presence longer."

"Uh…yeah…we'll come to you as soon as we figure it out."

… .. .

Spock very nearly wrinkled his nose with disdain at his Captain's eating habits. He was messy, noisy, and his hands touched everything. For once, he was not entirely sure the use of hyperbole was unwarranted. It seemed that the fruit and pectin content of Jim's sandwich had managed to spread in a destructively sticky circle around the Captain. Indeed, the grape jelly had coated a portion of the table, the Captain's tray, the collar of his shirt, and a patch of skin above his eyebrow.

As a result of flinging his sandwich around as he gesticulated, he had even managed to splash the wayward jelly on Spock, who was currently wiping it off with a napkin. He suspected he would find the purple food's presence behind his Captain as well, if he looked.

"Heh, sorry."

"James Kirk!" A pretty, petite blond stormed into the cafeteria, spotting him immediately.

"Rand! How did you find me here?" Jim beamed at the woman.

"I asked the computer. Don't think reprogramming it to only tell McCoy and Scotty will work. I had it fixed." She spoke rapidly, cleaning jelly from the table before placing a pair of PADDs down on it. "That had better be almond butter. I don't need you trying to get out of paperwork with an allergic reaction."

Jim laughed, swinging his sandwich and flinging the escapist jelly at his Yeoman. "Oh come on. It's already two thirds gone. I'd've had a reaction by now if I was going to."

"Stop. Gesticulating. With. Your. Sandwich." Spock nearly growled, cleaning more jelly from his face.

Was it even possible for the sandwich to have any jelly left on it, after all that had managed to coat the surrounding area? Jim grinned at him, that damned, practiced, sheepish grin. Rand turned on him, glaring potently and slamming a third PADD down in front of him. Spock glanced down at it, raising and eyebrow.

"I can't believe you." She chastised. "You finished everything else but you can't put this off."

Spock picked the PADD up, quietly, and looked it over. Jim watched with interest as Spock quickly signed his name on the PADD, handing it back to her.

"This should suffice, correct?"

Rand looked it over a moment, slowly becoming enraged. "You can't do that!"

"I believe I can. I have only just began my mission with the Enterprise. To abandon it now would be most unbecoming."

"Abandon?" Jim jumped to his feet, sandwich lost somewhere in his excitement, his voice raising several decibels and a couple octaves.

"Captain. Calm down." Rand insisted.

"Jim." Spock pulled him back into his seat, that one word instantly drawing his attention and soothing him.

Rand snorted, thrusting the PADD into Jim's hand. "Read the damn thing. Then you'll get it."

"It is not his to read."

"He's the captain."

"If you don't want me reading it, then start explaining." Jim frowned, setting the PADD with the other two.

Spock very nearly sighed. "Very well."

… … .. . .. … …

**I swear this isn't really non-sequiturs. Everything had a purpose in this one, honestly.**

**In other news, you may notice an abundance of TOS references, or not. If you do, you're as geeky as I am. If not, it obviously hasn't actually detracted from the story.**


	4. Chapter 4

…**Don't own.**

**If you're just interested in the story, you might skip the rest of my author's note…**

_**First of all, thank you, to everyone who reviewed or added this story to your alert list. It makes me feel special, and not in the "did you eat paint chips as a child" way.**_

_**To those of you who expressed concern about the writing not feeling particularly cannon, that's because it isn't. This isn't an excuse. It's as much my poor writing as the fact that this is a fanfic. I can only improve on that if you let me know where I'm going terribly wrong. That fact is though, I **_**am**_** using an alternate interpretation of the characters for my basis (as well as a mix of TOS and NuTrek) and trying to do a deep story is going to make the characters seem a bit…off. Like all the odd numbered movies, OMG whales, someone stole Spock's brain, what forehead ridges kind-of off.**_

_**Now, I'm hoping this story will be something people will enjoy, because that's the entire point of writing it, but I know it isn't going to be everyone's cup of tea. I'm sorry if it doesn't appeal to you, and you're more than welcome to make suggestions for how you think I could do better. Frankly, I'd appreciate that and it's important to me that I know when you think something is off. Let me know so I can make this fic better for you.**_

_**Otherwise, you might find you prefer a different fic. Or flaming this one, if you just feel the need to rant. If that makes you happy, then by all means, enjoy.**_

_**Thanks to those of you who bothered to read this insanity and I'm sorry for making you put up with my illogical tirade. I hope I don't sound upset, because I really do take the fact that it seems un-cannon seriously. Now on to your regularly scheduled chapter…**_

… … .. . .. … …

Jim waited impatiently, eyes locked on Spock as he considered what he should tell the Captain. There were quite a few unnecessary, personal details in the correspondence. After a moment, Rand opened her mouth to speak and Spock promptly cut her off.

"My father made requests as to my presence in the Vulcan colony at the end of our next mission." Spock was carefully devoid of any tone that may seem derisive. "I declined."

"You didn't just decline!" Rand hissed, slamming her hands on the table, wincing only momentarily as jelly squished under her palms. "You told your father to request a different ship for the mission."

"What mission?" Jim interrupted. "I wasn't alerted of any mission."

He was having extreme difficulty quashing the sense of inadequacy filling his chest. No one had told him about another mission in the lineup. It was possible Spock only found out about from his father, or maybe Pike. Rand, however, had apparently found out by…talking to Spock? Reading his mail? He honestly didn't know, but it scared him a bit to think that his First Officer honestly didn't trust him more than his Yeoman. And he hadn't seen fit to tell him that his father wanted him to leave the Enterprise.

Yes, it was good Spock declined. He wasn't sure the ship could survive with out him.

Jim felt his heart jump at that thought. Shit. Was he serious? Yeah, he had said he was an asset, but essential? His face would have flushed at his strange conviction at Spock's presence, if the blood hadn't decided to drain from it, driven by the fear of what exactly his reluctance to let his Commander leave meant. He wondered briefly where all the blood in his body managed to disappear to when things like that happened. He'd have to ask Bones.

"Ambassador Sarek has requested the Enterprise head to a nearby outpost and bring back a number of the Vulcans…studying there." Spock's tone was clipped. "You were not alerted as I learned of this request from him. I suspect Yeoman Rand looked into the report when I did not file it immediately."

She shrugged, "It's my job. I skipped all the personal items, I can guarantee that."

"I do not doubt you have no interest in such information." Yep, definitely a perfect example of grade A Vulcan bitterness.

"Which ship is closest to the…outpost?" Jim darted his eyes between them, settling into his Captain tone.

"That would be the Enterprise, sir." Rand offered. "Our detour to the Starbase to send off hard copies of the treaties will bring us within two weeks travel at a comfortable Warp 3 of the planet they are currently on. The next closest ship is a full month and a half out."

"The Enterprise would be put to better use on something more pertinent than a simple conveyance mission." Spock insisted, ice practically pouring from his mouth. "Such a high profile ship is suited for-"

"We defeated Nero. On top of being the flagship, we have that going for us. If anyone should be ferrying Vulcans, it's us." Jim interrupted, leaving the unspoken 'since we couldn't save their planet' hanging in the air.

"Very well." Spock didn't sound pleased. "I will not, however be leaving my position."

Jim sighed, drooping his shoulders with a thankful look, "Good. I'm not really sure what I'd do without you."

Spock blinked twice, rapidly. It took everything in Jim not to look shocked at his own words. Rand looked up from where she had been altering Spock's reply with a look of alarm. It quickly morphed into something akin to humor as she handed him his work PADDs. Jim groaned, flipping through pages with practiced ease.

"Oh. Hey, Rand?" He didn't look up from the PADD, jotting notes here and there.

"Yes sir?"

"I think one day of slacking off is enough." Jim passed the first PADD back to her, earning a surprised frown. "Request…um…Eaves to take over Spock's position at the science station for Beta shift tomorrow."

"Captain?" Jim blinked as Spock and Rand spoke in perfect unison.

"Rand." Jim acknowledged first. "You know I've got to do some actual work. I do this all the time. Spock, I was really hoping I wasn't going to have to drag you around, but it looks like I don't have much choice. Eaves was approved to handle your station in case of your absence on the bridge."

Spock inclined his head, brows slightly furrowed in thought. "I will admit interest towards your often lengthy absences from the bridge."

"You're curious where I sneak off to during my shift?"

"Inquisitive, yes."

"But you didn't think it was pressing enough to bring it up." Jim leaned forward, an amused look on his face.

"I had not yet deemed it to be of great importance, no."

Jim snorted, shaking his head and looking back down at the remaining PADD. Rand had finished looking over the other he had returned to her and had a schooled look of suspicion. Jim gave a faint grunt of annoyance, rolling his eyes in complaint at being forced to lay the PADD on a flat surface, rather than hold it at a more pleasing angle. With a few more quick flicks of his wrist, he returned the pen and PADD to Rand, smiling happily.

She glossed over it, becoming more annoyed the farther she read. Finally, she stacked the three PADDs and drew them into her arms. Before she stood, she narrowed her eyes at Kirk.

"If you're capable of speed reading none of your paperwork should take very long. Stop postponing it. Don't forget you have six reports to write to the Admiralty."

"I know, I know." Jim waved a hand at her. "I've got four of them done. I just want to finish them all before I turn them in."

She nodded, looking between the two with a sigh. With a final bow, she turned to leave, and promptly slipped on the previously forgotten sandwich. Jim darted his arm out, supporting her weight awkwardly as he had twisted to catch her. His shoulder pulled uncomfortably, as he had made a conscious effort not to move his other hand. Rand blinked repeatedly, face slowly reddening.

Jim grinned, half holding her, keeping his knee under her thighs to help support her. "Sorry about that."

She flushed vermillion, jumping into a standing position. "Captain."

Jim laughed at the stiff, scolding tone she used in complete contrast to her embarrassment. Much more carefully she hurried out of the cafeteria, well aware that a few people had watched that last part and were whispering. Jim shook his head, clearing any perverse thoughts that might have strayed in.

He wasn't allowed to notice how beautiful a woman she was. She'd just about have to jump him, on camera, tie him up, and force herself on him for it not to be considered him abusing his powers.

His mouth went dry, any thoughts of Rand tying him up suddenly less attractive.

"Jim?"

Kirk snapped his head around, almost fast enough to get whiplash. "Yeah? What do you need Spock?"

Spock frowned. The Captain's look had returned to normal. He had noticed the brief moment of desire and brushed it away, knowing of Jim's past history of lovers. He did not, however imagine he would act upon those desires. Just to be sure, he mentally filed a note to hold a ship wide reminder of sexual harassment policies. There was a possibility some of the juniors did not know and some of the older crew members needed reminding.

His mental note was nearly lost when he noticed the look of terror and compunction that momentarily graced Kirk's face.

He did not know what Jim had to be so startled by. Perhaps he recalled the rules and regulations forbidding such a relationship and balked at the consequences. Spock was not sure what should perturb him more, the look that Jim had held, or the steady feel of genial happiness flowing through their connected hands. The two were in direct opposition.

Perhaps he was keeping something from him after all.

"You find Yeoman Rand attractive?" He gauged Jim's reaction.

It involved much sputtering. "Well…yeah. I-I mean I find a lot of people…attractive. I can admit someone's good looking, you know. W-without wanting them, of course."

"I said nothing in regards to wanting." Spock raised an eyebrow, noting the interesting way Kirk attempted to defend himself.

"Yeah but that's what everyone associates with me finding people attractive." Jim blurted out, a helpless look on his face.

"I did not wish to interrogate you." It only happened to work that way.

"Well…do you think she's attractive?" Jim's blue eyes turned up at him in a classic puppy dog expression, which was ignored.

"Yes. She is an attractive woman." Spock inclined his head to the side, as if he were looking at it from a scientific view point.

Jim sighed, standing and attempting to clean most of his part of the table with a napkin. Spock followed suit, assisting in removing some of the mess. The Captain remained oblivious to the jelly on his face. Spock was divided on how to deal with it. Alerting the Captain to its presence would most likely earn it complete disregard, no doubt to see how long it would annoy him, the entire premise of which being illogical. Ignoring it would prove nearly impossible. Cleaning the Captain's face himself was…objectionable.

Jim's reaction would be of interest though. And he had received such treatment often from his mother in his youth.

Spock allowed a small frown to twitch at the corners of his mouth. It was erroneous to base his actions with the Captain off of his mother's own interactions with him. In the past month, he found himself adopting more of her nuances than he had ever previously. He constantly analyzed his actions, paralleling many unnecessarily with his mother.

Setting aside the thoughts of his mother, which he did not wish to dwell on outside of meditation, he reached out with a clean napkin and cleared the jelly from his Captain's brow. Jim looked up at him, mouth falling open slightly, eyes wide and pupils minutely constricted. Spock continued to clear the table as though he had done nothing unusual, though his fingertips buzzed strangely from the sudden contact.

Most fascinating.

"I…uh…think we've got this as clean as we're going to get it. Maintenance is already glaring at me." Jim chuckled nervously.

"Very well." Spock agreed.

… .. .

It had taken a few minutes for Jim to clear all the jelly he had on him. The traces on his collar belied a thick stream of the viscous material trailing down his arm. Purple had managed to sneak into his hair, no doubt distributed by the long fingers that often raked through it. Having cleaned it, Jim roughly rubbed a towel over it and left it without a brush. Spock careful washed his face and inspected his hair, ensuring no more of the menace was present before he would retire to bed.

Once they were settled in and the lights were off, Jim resigned himself to another night of the same.

After resisting the urge to toss and turn, finding no position was comfortable with another person so close, Jim forced his eyes closed. He deliberated complex fighter patterns and, when that proved useless in assisting his sleep, he focused on solving problems in his head in base eight. He snickered to himself, three hours later, when nothing worked, at the though of counting electric sheep.

He snuck an eye open an found that Spock was laying perfectly still in his bed, not a hair out of place. The only thing keeping him from looking like some fairytale princess was the one arm splayed sideways, connecting him to 'the illogical human'.

Oh, sure, he'd never actually called him that, but there were some times he could just tell he was thinking it.

Jim was exhausted. Certainly, he had gotten fairly used to running on little to no sleep, but he'd never had to keep himself consciously aware of how he was feeling. It sounded so cheep, saying that. A glossy, happy look on his face, some pouts, flirts, general exaggeration and exasperation, all easy. Actually having to focus on it, because there was going to be one person who wasn't going to look away was terrible.

Jim sighed. He felt so lost, tired.

He was putting on a show for everyone. Only Bones knew when he was in pain. He really was holding walls between them. He wasn't the only one though, and could not just open up without a show of faith.

At some point, he slipped off, falling into a light sleep. It didn't last.

Spock woke, well enough rested and prepared to meditate. Glancing over, he surveyed Jim, taking in the quick, shallow breaths and rapidly twitching eyelids. He jolted, surprised by the distressed look on Jim's face. All at once, Jim jerked awake and proceeded to scramble as far away from him as he could. As Spock didn't move, that was arms length.

There was pure terror shining in Jim's eyes, like a cornered animal. Soft whimpers escaped his lips as he tugged for freedom. Soon, recognition lit his eyes, sending them into a hazy, murky blue. Spock reached out slowly with his free hand, as though fast movements would cause the other man to turn vicious. His mind flashed to memories of angry sehlats.

Jim flushed, shaking his head. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up."

"You are distressed Jim." Spock had lowered his hand, but still crept it closer, so it was just an inch from the other man.

He was not entirely sure what he was to do with it.

"Sorry." Jim repeated, sheepish smile accompanied by a gentle scratch of his neck. "I guess I'm just a little freaked out. I'm not used to sharing a bed."

Spock drew back in surprise, the admission seeming unusual. "Captain?"

Jim grimaced. "Yeah…even when I was dating…I never actually spent the night. I just slipped out before morning."

"Then," Spock paused, throat strangely dry. "You are uncomfortable because of my presence."

"No! I don't know…I…I don't even know why I told you that." Jim flopped back onto the bed, groaning. "I…sorry. I'll try to keep quiet. It's no big deal."

"If you are distressed, you should seek to alleviate your problem, or you will be unable to sleep." Spock insisted.

"I'm fine. Look. This is me going back to sleep." Jim grabbed his pillow holding it over his face.

Spock twitched, yanking the pillow from his Captain's face. Jim was ruffled, face red and cheeks puffed. His blue eyes looked amused. He was. There was a touch of alarm in those brown-black eyes. Apparently he didn't like the thought of him holding a pillow over his face.

Spock stiffened, returning the pillow to him. Jim fluffed it dramatically before placing it under his head, a smug look of satisfaction on his face. Spock sank back into his meditation pose, but did not close his eyes. Jim huffed, shutting his eyes and smiling. It would be fine if Spock thought he fell back to sleep.

After a few more minutes, he slowed his breathing, allowing his muscles to relax completely. He felt Spock relax as well, no doubt allowing himself to slip into meditation. Ten minutes. Jim counted ten minutes and slowly opened his eyes, watching Spock as he lost himself in his meditation. Or maybe it was found himself? Jim wasn't overly concerned with the terminology.

Spock was calm, not blank. Jim found himself smiling. He was so curious. Childlike giddiness bubbled in his stomach. He felt like he was getting away with something. Like the child who snuck a live feed into his room to listen to music into the early hours of the morning. He felt himself relax a bit, eyes trailing over his Commander's face.

Jim was a people person. He liked to watch them. He liked to see people walking through their days and make up stories of their entire lives. He like to meet those people and see how close he really was. He liked to memorize features. He knew how hard it was to keep your eyes from being honest. The slightest twitches, turns, glossing of eyes and dilation of pupils, he catalogued them all. Each person was different, let alone the different species he came in contact with.

He knew a lot about Spock's expressions. Honestly, he thought he was making headway in being able to decipher the complexity of emotions and thoughts they presented.

Spock raised both his eyebrows when he was surprised, or annoyed, or just trying to subtly tell you that you were a complete idiot. He kind of liked that look, because it was fun to see just how far they would disappear into the Vulcan's hair line before he schooled his face to neutrality.

He liked the one eyebrow raise even better. Incredulous, curious, pissed, telling you to move your ass now or get it shoved out of the way, demanding you stop talking nonsense and make logical sense, telling you that you were being ridiculous, considering what you said with the utmost devotion. It was amazing how much could be said with the simple twitching up of one eyebrow. Maybe even 'fascinating'.

Sometimes, he caught his Commander's brow furrowed. It was almost always when he was deep in thought. Spock didn't show anger that way. It just didn't work. The more concerned he was, the more focused, the tighter he would draw his brow. Occasionally, Jim even detected the slightest purse of lips that were normally pressed into a perfect line. It was times like that he knew Spock's attention was fully devoted to something, so rapt that he didn't notice most anything else.

And his smirks.

Spock had a smirk for every occasion.

He had a smirk for when he was amused, the slightest twitch of the right side of his lips. He had one for when he was pleased, usually accompanied with just the slightest drop of his eyelids, making him appear all the more satisfied. He had a smirk when he learned something new, as though he had just figured something out and no one else could have done it as fast or proficiently. He had a smirk when he was snarking, the only one that twitches the left side of his mouth. He's only ever seen it directed at himself of McCoy, witty arguments with others not worthy of the expression.

Spock also had one hell of a cocky smirk. It was a flighty thing, prone to disappearing the second it appeared. It was the only one that could be called a proper smirk. Usually, it accompanied the subtle use of rules and superior knowledge to put someone else at a complete disadvantage. It was defiance distilled. A small, radiating moment of smugness.

Sure all of the half-Vulcan's smirks were smug, but that one was pure confidence.

And his eyes. Well…Jim was still figuring those out. He wouldn't believe any creature capable of such a subtle array of colors if he hadn't seen them himself. Not even when Bones complained to him that his eyes did the same thing.

He shuddered, watching Spock breath deep, lost in his own thoughts. Jim wondered what it was like, to be so fully devoted to something that you could loose yourself in it. Could he ever find something like that? The ship, maybe? Could he ever give himself over? Sometimes, he thought so. The things he felt, the way he just knew the words he didn't know he needed to speak, but did anyway, the things that came to him when he was in command. They certainly felt like he had given himself to the ship and allowed her to guide him.

Spock took a deeper breath than normal and Jim quickly returned to a semi-plausible sleeping position. He could feel the other man shift and opened his eyes just a bit, watching him move through his eyelashes. Spock straightened his already flawless hair, almost sighing.

His meditation had provided no insight into his Captain's behavior. He knew, with little doubt, that there was something hidden behind the intensity of Kirk's actions. He'd been nearly floored, once, by the force of Jim's focus. He could still remember the tight grip he held on the column of Kirk's neck, bruising and completely disregarded by the man below him. He could remember the sorrow, regret, trust, and welcome understanding, hidden deep below determination and the pulsing need to protect.

Spock understood just how complex Jim truly was. Just the brush of their minds in a moment where neither of them could focus on barriers told him of dynamic depths that could swallow unsuspecting minds. He was beginning to suspect that Jim hid behind his most intense emotions to keep the others at bay. It seemed to be a natural mechanism, as though more than one emotion at a time would make him vulnerable.

Jim opened his eyes, a little unnerved by the blatant stare. Sure Spock was doing the same thing he had, but it was a little weird. Spock tilted his head to the side, acknowledging that he was awake.

"Mmh. Morning." Jim stretched noting with a small frown that Spock was attempting to completely disregard him.

"It is." Spock agreed, turning back to him with an unusual look.

Jim tried not to snicker, knowing that Spock could never figure out why he would restate obvious things.

Their morning was much smoother than the previous, though no less awkward. At breakfast, they were accosted by Chekov and Sulu, who immediately sat to eat with them.

"Hey guys." Jim grinned setting aside his half-eaten cereal.

"Captain." Sulu nodded. "How are you?"

"Good?" Jim frowned, leaning back a bit with a confused look on his face.

Chekov gently pushed the cereal back in front of him. "Ve vere curious about the trip to the Starbase."

"Oh?" Jim took another bite for appearances' sake. "If you're wondering, you do have a day and a half free time. We have a few things we need checked while we're there and since they don't want _my_ crew handling it, I figured I'd give you all free reign."

"This iz good, da?" Chekov nudged Sulu. "Wery good. May ve tell otherz of the neuvs?"

Jim paused a moment, deciphering that last word before waving his hand dismissively. "Of course you can."

Sulu smiled. "Thank you Captain. We were hoping to get some time together."

Jim's eyes widened and he started laughing, causing Sulu to blush bright red as Chekov and Spock both tilted their heads to the side inquisitively. Sulu swatted his Captains arm, grimacing a little.

"What I meant was we know the Starbase has a laser tag sight and we were hoping to have a game, bridge versus security." Sulu glared daggers at him. "You know I don't…"

Sulu waved his hand vaguely and Jim redoubled with laughter. He could hardly be blamed if he noticed the innocent innuendo. He also knew the remainder of that sentence finished with something along the line of taking advantage of Chekov's innocence, sleeping with someone he had to fly the ship with, or any other number of vague statements that actually said nothing of his real intentions. It wasn't the first time he and Sulu had been discussing the young Russian, only for the pilot to deteriorate into poorly worded statements.

Jim barely reigned in his laughter. "Sounds great. Have you asked Lieutenant Giotto yet?"

"We wanted to clear it with you first." Sulu huffed, shoving his French toast in his mouth.

"Anything else you need?" Jim asked with a wide grin.

"That's about it. Hey…uh do you think…" Sulu glanced at Chekov, frowning.

"Vould the Keptin und Kommander join us in the gamez asvell?" Chekov looked expectantly at Spock.

Spock lifted his eyebrow, considering the question a moment before inclining his head in agreement. "It would be a productive exercise, especially providing the Captain and I are not yet separated at the time."

"Hey, you're right." Jim grinned. "We need to know if we can still function, right?"

"Indeed."

"And if you are separated?" Sulu asked around a mouthful.

"It is imperative to test one's skill regularly."

"We should get to the bridge." Jim announced, standing as he cleared his tray. "Be sure to get Cupcake on board with the plan."

"Right Captain, want me to get your trays?" Sulu offered.

"Thanks, that'd be great." Kirk was grinning, already headed out of the canteen.

… .. .

Silence on the bridge was normal. Slight murmurs, beeps, the sound of his ship were all around them. Jim smiled, leaning heavily on the science station. Sometimes thing went so well.

"Captain." Uhura broke though his random thoughts. "We're receiving a call from the Admiralty."

Jim grimace. "Do we know who exactly?"

"Pike, sir." She offered an amused smile.

Jim beamed, nearly dragging his First Officer to the Captain's chair. Spock straightened his uniform out, casting a disapproving look at Kirk as he squirmed in his seat. After a few seconds he managed to train his face into something appropriate for a Captain, rather than his school boy delight.

He nodded firmly to Uhura. "Put him through."

The screen lit up, providing the pointedly not amused face of one Admiral Pike. "Captain Kirk."

"Admiral Pike." Jim struggled with his grin, very nearly loosing.

"Mind explaining the rather sudden, not to mention unorthodox, change to the treaty? Everyone here is asking where that came from."

"Heh." Jim finally did smile. "I guess you've got me. I was planning to include it in my official report. The one due in two weeks."

Pike rolled his eyes. "Well why don't you tell me now?"

Jim shrugged, raising his hands in front of him as if to say 'what can you do'. This immediately caught Pike's attention, due to their current predicament. His jaw fell open, eyes focused intently on the clasped hands of the two men on his screen.

"What the hell?"

Jim laughed. "Turns out they have some really weird moss down there. Leaving out the complicated stuff, we're glued together."

Pike started laughing, genuinely amused. "How do you always manage to get yourself in these situations?"

"I don't know." Kirk sighed, smile falling, though his eyes still held amusement. "I guess I'm just that lucky."

Pike shook his head, frowning. "And what about you, Spock? Are you alright?"

Spock nodded lightly. "I am well."

"How are you adjusting? Kirk isn't too much for you, is he?" Pike leaned forward in his seat, brow furrowed with concern.

"My shields are sufficient. Thank you for your concern."

"You didn't answer my other question." Pike chided. "How are you adjusting to the Enterprise?"

Spock allowed his lips to twitch into the faintest of smiles. "I find I have adjusted well, Christopher."

Jim gaped as the two shared a genuine moment. Pike was beaming, eyes filled with a tender, fatherly affection. Jim turned to view his First Officer and was horrified to find there was a heart wrenching warmth hidden there…trust. His breath caught in his throat, eyes wide. His chest burned and he could feel water in the corners of his eyes. What had Pike done to earn such devotion?

Jim's head swam, vision darkening as he listened to their cordial banter. He glanced around the room. Everyone was watching like there was absolutely nothing unusual happening. Couldn't they see how happy the two were talking? Spock was practically glowing. For once, he genuinely wished he was ignorant to the little looks his First Officer made.

"Kirk?" Pike's voice was hazy in his ears.

Everything was hazy. He felt himself slipping from the command chair. Lights were exploding behind his eyes, his head felt light, his body tingled, heavy. He could hear the shouts of 'Captain' and his name rung in his ears. Why was everything so heavy? Why did his chest hurt so much?

He could see Spock leaning over him, lips moving. What was he saying? He felt something stinging at his neck and suddenly his head felt very heavy, pounding with an uncomfortable intensity. The rest of his body felt tenderly light. He turned his head to the side, seeing Bones kneeling over him with an empty hypo in his hands.

"Damn it Jim, don't just stop breathing." McCoy groaned, shaking his shoulder.

"S-sorry Bones." Jim grinned weakly, taking deep gulps of air.

"What the hell happen?" Pike called over the screen, confused.

"Uh…" Jim glanced around him. "I forgot to breath?"

"You'd think you were actively trying to kill yourself!" McCoy roared, readying another hypo.

Jim watched the older man's hands, the faintest of trembling present. He was scared. Later, Jim would ask what he was doing coming to the bridge, but in that moment, he was just glad he was there. McCoy turned to him, dark eyes drowning in unasked questions. Jim could see the fear and pain he held there. The malice in his rebuking words was nothing.

Jim felt a single, oxygen deprived tear spill onto his cheek and dragged his best friend forward into a one armed hug. "I'm so sorry."

Bones squeaked, attempting to push him off. "Not in front of the crew!"

… … .. . .. … …

**Poor Jim. At least Bones cares for him, in that weird, caustic way.**

**And I swear this chapter will come back to have actual significance.**


	5. Chapter 5

…**Don't own.**

**To my reviewers:**

_**Thank you again for the love. Seriously, you make writing this worth it. And I've already got quite a bit done, so look forward to more.**_

**As for addressing the concerns(and I swear this is the last one for a while): **_**I'm afraid I can't elaborate on my alternate interpretation without basically giving away the entire story. I'll try to work on those points you mentioned though and hopefully you'll like this chapter better. **_

… … .. . .. … …

"Next time you need affection, ask. Don't just hold your breath." Leonard huffed, pointing his fork at Jim.

"I wasn't doing it for affection." Kirk groaned flinging a grape at his close friend.

"You did not sufficiently explain why you ceased breathing." Spock frowned, pausing in his own meal.

"I just forgot, okay?" Jim flushed. "I don't know. It was bad enough Pike kept drilling me."

"Forgetting to breath…How stupid are you Jim?"

"Shut up." Jim grunted, deciding his salad made better ammunition than a meal.

"Seriously, though." McCoy leaned across the table, gripping Jim's shoulder. "Are you alright? I figured you'd had a panic attack when I walked onto the bridge to see you laying on the ground, not breathing. You know you should tell me when that happens."

"Oh God. Bones! It wasn't a panic attack." He glanced sideways at Spock.

"Hey, I know that'd be a weird time to have an attack, but you're stressed. Maybe it finally caught up with you."

"What were you doing on the bridge anyway?" Jim diverted.

McCoy sneered at the diversion, but allowed it. "We've treated the last of the flu, but we're keeping an eye on the infected crew members to make sure they're no longer contagious. I thought I'd stop by and check on you while I told you."

"Aw, thanks Bones." Jim flashed a warm smile. "I'm good though."

"You wouldn't have been."

"…Thanks…"

"I must agree that the Doctor's timing was most fortuitous."

Jim narrowed his eyes, flinging a grape at Spock for being such an ass. Spock caught it, returning it to the Captain's plate with a raised brow.

"If you do not wish to eat, do not order a meal."

Jim flushed, stuffing the grape in his mouth and violently stabbing his salad. Bones frowned, reaching across the table again to check Kirk's pulse. He pulled a light from his pocket, flashing it in the younger man's eyes.

"Shit. Bones. I'm eating."

"Yeah? Have you been doing that often? And what about your sleep? You look awful." Bones pocketed the light looking Jim over. "You've lost weight."

"I'm fine. Spock. Tell him I'm fine."

"The Captain has been waking repeatedly from distressing dreams and finding difficulty in returning to sleep after. Though he has eaten at every meal, I have yet to see him finish his food." Spock ignored the look of betrayal Jim was giving him.

"You haven't been finishing your food?" Bones asked, incredulous. "I know you're not above chucking a few things at people, but you only leave food on your plate when you're really stressed."

"I'm fine." He replied through gritted teeth.

"Jim…"

"Spock and I should report to the bridge before I head off on my rounds." Jim stood, pushing his tray away. "Sorry Bones."

McCoy sighed, shaking his head. "Stubborn brat. You will come to me if something happens, right?"

Jim's eyes softened, a warm blue. "Of course I will."

Spock cleared their trays, having finished his meal in the time Jim and McCoy spoke. The way the two interacted was fascinating. The more he observed, the less he could reconcile their friendship with what was normal for humans. They were friends though.

… .. .

"Okay, Sulu, you have the Conn." Jim waved his hand at the pilot, grinning.

Spock turned from his station, having instructed his replacement as to what he should be looking for in Spock's absence. With a quick nod to his Captain, they were headed off the bridge. From the corner of his eye, Jim caught Uhura watching them as they left.

The pair walked silently through the halls, nodding politely in acknowledgment of the crewmembers that jumped to attention. Jim couldn't help but find the silence stifling as they stood side by side in the turbo lift. He was relieved when it finally came to a stop outside of engineering as he almost rushed to find Scotty. Said Scotsman was verbally abusing his staff when Jim called out to him. The men looked disappointed to have the officer's attentions off of them, rather than pleased to no longer be the brunt of his consternation.

Masochists.

"Aye, Cap'n. Commnd'r. What'r ye doin' down 'eer today?"

"Well, I figured I'd devote my time to engineering today. I've been spending a lot of time with botany, security, and IT. I haven't helped out here in forever." Jim grinned. "So put me to use."

"Well, but yur connected to the Commnd'r…can't exactly go climin' 'bout the engines if ye only got one hand."

"Oh come on!" Jim whined. "You know I've done it before. And Spock's good too. He'd help, won't you?"

"I will endeavor to be of any assistance I can."

Scotty sighed, gesturing for him to follow. "Yur all dismissed, get to work."

Back in the bowls of the ship, Scotty picked up two pairs of jumpsuits and tossed them to Jim. He handed one to Spock and began stripping immediately.

"Captain?"

"Don't want your uniform getting dirty, do you?" Jim secured the denim jumper around his waist, unable to pull it fully on because of Spock's hand in his.

When he glanced sideways, he noticed Spock doing the same, his clothes neatly folded where Jim's had been roughly tossed aside into a pile. Scotty handed them each a tool belt, which they fastened in place. Jim needed much shimmying and cocking of his hip to properly hold it up long enough to do so. With a wide grin, Jim plunged into engineering, listening to Scotty update him on the changes being made and upgrades in the works. He showed them rigging he had concerns with and pointed out the repairs after the Nero incident.

Near the end of their rounds, Jim froze, his step stopping the same time as Scotty's. "Did you hear that?"

"Aye, lad. Sounded like it came from o'er 'eer." Scotty lead the way to a piece of machinery, appearing to be operating in perfect condition.

"What appears to be the problem?" Spock asked, having heard nothing he deemed unusual from the machine.

It sounded exactly the same as it had when they left the area after dressing.

"Eh, she be making a high sound, grinding ah bit." Scotty frowned, sending a Ensign scuttling for something.

"Sounds like she needs cleaned and re-greased." Jim tilted his ear to the air, as though it would provide greater insight.

Even the high-tech components of a Starship needed lubricants to reduce friction. It was mildly concerning to hear it need it so soon into their voyage, but was no doubt something that had just been overlooked during maintenance in favor of the more important items.

Jim glanced at Scotty, who gave him a firm nod and he was bolting for the machine, ignoring how Spock subtly trailed behind, clearly not as thrilled. After a second, he realized what the Captain wanted, though, and assisted him in opening the safety shield. The machine powered down and Jim wriggled his way in, leaving a confused Vulcan crouched next the machine, one arm half disappearing into it. There were the sounds of clunking and gears being turned by hand.

"Oh man. Scotty! Has anyone looked at this since the Nero incident? This lubricant is filled with metal shavings. Make a note to have the gears replaced at the Starbase." Kirk's voice echoed through machine, but Scott heard him just fine and complied with a growl.

"Ye trust those fools for a might bit and they leaver 'er vulnerable. Could'a done a fair bit 'o damage if we 'and't heard 'er."

Jim climbed back out, grey-black grease smeared across his arms and chest. He wiped a palm across the jeans and glanced around. The Ensign returned with a large caulking gun in hand, though the tube held an antifriction compound. Spock looked up from where he had been eyeing the grease that managed to coat his arm by way of Kirk in time to be handed the device.

"Hey Spock, this is a two man job, want to help me?" Jim grinned, already crawling back into the confined space.

With a repressed sigh behind his lips, Spock followed. Standing in the cramped space, he attempted to ignore the discomfort of his Captain's bare shoulder pressing into his chest. At Jim's instruction, he applied the grease, watching to ensure the man did not capture his hand in the gears as he turned them to spread it. The pink mess was fortunately confined to the gears and Jim's left hand, though the metal polluted grease had managed to coat all of the Captain through some phenomenon. By the same virtue, wherever he touched Spock, he transferred the slick filth.

"Ugg. There, that should do it." Jim sighed, wiping his hand on his pants before clearing sweat from his brow. "Not too bad considering it's hard to move like this."

Jim wiggled his right arm for emphasis, smearing more grease on his Commander. Spock proceeded to ignore him, leaving the confined space. Jim chuckled as he was dragged along. Scotty was yelling at a few Ensigns when they got clear and they quickly replaced the panel and restarted the equipment.

"Much better." Jim grinned.

"Tha' she is. Ah'll be getting' 'er fixed up jus' as soon as we're at the base."

Scotty moved to clap him on the shoulder, but thought better of it when he noticed the copious amounts of grease. Kirk laughed, looking himself over appraisingly. His laughter was cut short, though, as his ship changed pace. Scotty glanced around in surprise and Spock raised one eyebrow, looking at the Captain.

"Why are we naugh' still in warp?"

"Perhaps we should-" Spock's sentence died on his lips as the ship shuddered.

The two were racing out the door before the Klaxon even sounded. Jim chose to forgo the turbo lifts, expertly vaulting up service ladders and down halls. By the swinging of Spock's arm, he could tell he had fallen in a directly opposite step. Thank goodness one of them was smart. The halls parted for them, people rushing to their stations clearing the way for the command team. Neither he, nor Spock, said a word, racing through the halls with a far too practiced ease.

They made it to the bridge in record time. Something Kirk never wished to repeat, as his side was burning fiercely.

He rushed onto the bridge, too concerned to allow it to actually hurt. "What the hell is going on?"

Uhura swiveled around in her seat. "Captain we…"

Her mouth fell open, eyes widening a moment as she took in her Captain's appearance. His sandy blond hair was a tousled mess, sweat causing it to stick up in awkward places. His skin was wet from the heat of the ship, beads of salty water traveling across exposed flesh. Dark grease was smeared across him, uniquely fitting with the dark look in his eyes. The jean jumpsuit hung low on his hips, only really kept up by the tool belt. He, appropriately, looked like he had just crawled out of an engine.

Uhura was a little sour to admit it was a very good look for the Captain.

"Lieutenant?" Kirk snapped, twisting to give her a confused look.

"We've found a Cardassian vessel, sir." She quickly turned back to her station, only blushing a little.

"What?" Jim glanced around frantically, confused.

"Keptin. Scannerz picked up the wessel, so ve dropped ute of varp. They fired odeen shot."

"How many?" Jim asked, disregarding the Russian word.

"Wun, Keptin." Chekov answered, flushing.

"Just one?" Kirk repeated, frowning.

"Yes, Captain. It appears to have done absolutely no damage as well." Sulu responded. "Not that Mr. Scott won't be up in arms about the paint."

Kirk sighed, relieved to hear that. "Okay. Have they done anything else?"

"No Sir." Uhura answered, pointedly not turning around.

"Okay. Hail the ship."

"Captain?" Jim wasn't entirely sure how many people asked that, but enough had to warrant an answer.

"I want to know what's going on. Just destroying them could lead to a lot of problems. Uhura, hail the ship."

"Captain, maybe you should-"

"Lieutenant! We don't have time to waste." Jim snapped.

"Yes Captain."

Spock dragged him back to the Captain's chair, standing just behind it. Jim glanced down, realizing their connected hands would be hidden by the chair and offering a smirk to his brilliant First Officer. No point starting a diplomatic incident over something stupid like being caught holding hands with each other. The screen flickered up, a poor connection to say the least. A young Cardassian woman was glaring at them though.

"I am Captain James T. Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise." Jim's voice rang through the bridge, challengingly calm.

"I wasn't aware the federation had made changes to the command uniform." She snorted, looking him over.

Jim glanced down, realizing he had forgotten his tunic in engineering. Glancing back up, he shrugged.

"Who are you?"

"Captain Natima Tain." She was sneering at him.

"Why did you fire on my ship?"

"Maybe I was curious."

"You know, there's an Earth saying, "Curiosity killed the cat." I can think of a few Cardassians this is going to apply to if you don't start cooperating." Jim growled.

"You don't have the gall." She challenged.

"Sulu, charge photon cannons."

"Yes Sir."

"Wait." She insisted.

Jim raised his hand, stopping Sulu who had yet to turn back to his station. A quick flick of his finger, though, and Sulu raised shields. It was nice to have a well oiled crew. He raised his eyebrows at the Cardassian Captain when she said that. Now she snarled, looking away from the screen.

"I am in need of your assistance."

"Shooting at my ship won't get you it."

"My ship was firing weakened shells in an attempt to get someone's attention. As you may have noticed, we're in no condition to be broadcasting over large distances."

"So what? You need a tow?" Jim snorted, shaking his head.

"We were recently engaged in battle with a group of Klingons."

"I still don't see how this is my problem."

She looked back at him, no longer holding contempt. "My people are injured, Captain Kirk, and my Chief Medical Officer is dead."

Jims straightened, glancing sideways to see Spock's reaction. He inclined his head slightly, as if to say he understood what she was asking and would allow Kirk to choose the best course of action. Jim looked back at her and nodded.

"See if you can't have your injured beamed aboard. Give me ten minutes to prepare."

"Thank you. I'll see if it is possible to move them."

Uhura cut the transmission, and Jim swore loudly in Orion.

"Bridge to Medical."

"Jim!" Bones' voice filled the bridge, more concerned than angry. "What the hell is going on up there? Are we in some kind of engagement? Should we be preparing for injured?"

"No, and yes."

"…What?"

"We've come upon a Cardassian ship." Jim explained, "Apparently some Klingons kicked their asses and now they've got a lot of people injured and no one to treat them. Chances aren't good that they're going to transport them over here, so pick out five nurses or doctors to accompany you to the ship. I'll have security ready to transport by then."

"Damn it Jim. This is crazy."

"I know."

"I'm not adjusting my bedside manner for this." McCoy warned.

"Good. I need them a little frustrated if I want any clue as to what they're doing this far into Federation space. Let alone tangling with Klingons out here."

"…You better know what you're doing Jim." McCoy cut the link, hurrying to do as he was told.

"Bridge to Security deck…five?" Jim frowned, looking at Uhura, who connected him to the right part of the ship anyway.

"Captain? What's happening up there?" Giotto was practically scowling through the communicator.

"Cardassians." Jim sighed. "The main point is they claim to be in trouble. I need you and Freeman to pick out a group of your best security officers to beam over. Secure the place for our medical team. I'm trusting you to know how many you'll need, but I really don't want a lot of people over there incase I need to transport you guys back in a hurry."

"Yes Sir."

Scotty burst into the room, carrying the clothes forgotten in Engineering. Kirk scowled, just realizing that Spock had bothered to grab his own shirt and had at least appeared presentable for their little fiasco.

"Ye left yur tunic in engineering Cap'n." Scotty handed him a towel to clean himself first.

"What do you have all over yourself?" Sulu was shaking his head, eyeing the gray goop.

"It's lubricant." Jim huffed, not really succeeding in removing any substantial amount of the offending material.

Sulu started laughing, effectively falling out of his chair. Jim's ears reddened as he could hear the snickers of other crewmembers joining in. Scotty was grinning at him, an understanding, but amused look on his face.

"Shut up Sulu." Jim growled. "We were helping out in engineering."

"You need a shower." Uhura reprimanded when Jim pulled the tunic on, not bothering to really finish removing the grease.

Checking that all the fasteners were in place, Kirk shook his head. "No time right now. Maybe once things clear up."

"Keptin. It has been ten minutes."

"Alright. Uhura, hail them again."

"Yes Captain."

The Cardassian Captain's image flickered up on the screen, looking mildly distraught. Jim already knew what she was going to say.

"There are too many injured and in poor condition for moving. Unless it is absolutely necessary, I'm afraid we must keep them upon our ship."

"Alright. Prepare to have security beamed over in two minutes. Medical will only follow when we're sure it's safe." Jim noticed the look of surprise on her face.

"You spent your time preparing for this, rather than the arrival of my wounded." She accused.

"Some of us actually know how this works. When my medics beam over, have Dr. McCoy treat you for your wounds himself." Jim was glaring at her, not particularly thrilled with how this was going.

"You knew I was injured?"

"Yes." Jim signaled for Uhura to cut transmissions before she could respond.

"Lieutenant Uhura." Spock caught her attention. "Send correspondence to the Admiralty, informing them of the situation and all actions being taken."

"Yes Sir."

"Bridge to Transporters." Jim called.

"Captain." A young woman's voice greeted him.

"Is everyone ready down there?"

"Six security officers, including Lieutenant Giotto are on the transporter ready to beam. Dr. McCoy and Nurse Chapel are here with their team waiting as well."

"Good. Don't transport the medical personnel until Giotto contacts you to say it's okay."

"Yes Captain."

Jim turned his attention back to the bridge crew, dropping his shoulders and bowing his head. "Am I forgetting anything?"

"I believe you have taken all necessary actions Captain. Once the mission is underway, I would request we return to our rooms and clean ourselves. We are both still coated in lubricant from our earlier activities and our uniforms have suffered for it."

Jim nearly flushed, dropping his head with a groan. Behind him, Sulu's breathless snickers were filling the bridge, the soft thud of his head hitting the console causing Jim greater embarrassment. Scotty was holding his sides, biting his lip to keep from laughing out loud. Uhura looked scandalized…and amused.

"Fine…Just never say that again." Jim grimaced.

His communicator beeped, and Jim frowned, flicking it open. "Kirk here."

"We've secured the area and Medical staff are on board." Giotto called.

"How bad is it?"

"It's bad, Captain. They won't tell us how many are dead, but most of the crew has sustained some kind of injury. The ship is in pretty bad shape Captain. They've got hull breeches in three places, their engines are shot, and their life support won't last much longer."

"Crap." Jim groaned, glancing at Scotty. "I'll send some engineers over as soon as I can. Do you need more security personnel?"

"No Captain. They're in no position to fight."

"Alright." Kirk sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I'll keep my communicator on me. Kirk out. Scotty, work your magic."

"Aye Cap'n." He was already out the door.

"Captain." Spock inclined his head with a quirked brow.

Jim sighed. "Okay I need a few minutes. Sulu, take the Conn. Spock, lets get cleaned up."

… … .. . .. … …

**I swear nothing I'm doing is random, honestly. I just seems like that for now. It'll all come together nicely.**

…**I hope….maybe not nicely, but it will come together.**


	6. Chapter 6

…**Still not owning.**

**It just keeps coming…And me, not delivering on anything substantial. God I suck at setting up stories.**

… … .. . .. … …

McCoy hated transporters. If you were meant to rip your atoms apart and stick them back together, you'd be able to do it without a machine. The Cardassian ship was quiet when his personnel beamed aboard. A tall, bulky Cardassian was waiting for them and silently gestured for them to follow. If Giotto hadn't signed off on it, he'd have called to be beamed back immediately.

The man lead them down to a cargo hold. The injured were laying in neat rows, the worst closest to the doors with decreasing wounds radiating out from that spot. Those still capable of functioning were moving among the people, providing the best first aid they could.

McCoy rounded on his people. "Get every available hand working. Hand out tricorders, I want scans of everyone. Chapel, I need you taking charge of everyone not mine. Get them ordered and working. Everyone else, get started on the worst first."

The five jumped to action, Chapel catching nearly everyone's attention after McCoy stopped talking. She was good at her job, and now he needed those people to listen to her. Fortunately, they looked like they would. He knelt almost immediately, scanning the man in front of him. They had brought a lot of material over, and a quick scan of the room told him he had been right to do so.

Most of the medical equipment the Cardassians had brought from their Sickbay was dreadfully out of date or in poor condition.

He had stabilized the man and set him on his way to healing when he moved to the next person. His crew was working hard, and the Cardassians were listening to Chapel perfectly. They still had to use field tactics. As soon as the man was stable, he moved on and someone came up behind him to take over his care. There were so many injured, he wasn't confidant they could stabilize them all, but he'd be damned if they didn't try.

It was close to eight hours later when he finally met the Captain of the ship. They had lost a life, as he knew would eventually happen. The fact that there was only one death was astounding as it was. He cursed and swore at the top of his lungs as the rapidly fading man was taken from the room.

Stupid cultural taboos about outsiders not seeing the deceased were the bane of his existence. He was still swearing up a storm when a young woman walked in quickly, a pronounced limp, though she had no visible wounds. She had clearly come from engineering if the grease streak in her hair was anything to go by. No doubt Scotty had been putting her to use. Apparently Jim wasn't the only one.

"I am Captain of this ship." She announced to his shoulder as he had yet to acknowledge her beyond seeing her come in.

"Yeah? Well make your hands useful. I don't have time to do a meet and greet." He snapped, tying off a wound that had been, until he addressed it, sealed off by molten metal.

She dropped to her knees, pressing firmly on the wound to free up his hands to stitch it. "You are Doctor McCoy?"

"How'd you guess?" He barked angrily at her. "Your second in command watching over us like a hawk without saying a fucking word this whole time?"

"His throat was injured in the fight. I suspect he inhaled acid from a malfunctioning science experiment when he cleared the labs."

McCoy's head shot up, hands never faltering as he continued to stitch. "And he didn't tell me! Or gesture…or something!"

Technicalities would not get between him and his indignant frame of mind. The man beneath his hands moaned and he ordered him to shut up, brusquely stopping his protests. The Captain frowned at him, removing her hands as they moved to another patient.

"Your bedside manner leaves something to desire, as does your treatment of me."

"Sorry." He sneered. "Captain's orders."

She jolted, surprised. "Your Captain ordered you to argue with me in his place."

"Something like that."

She actually smiled, a toothy thing. "It is a shame I could not send someone to do likewise."

"I'll give him the blow-by-blow later." McCoy grunted, glancing up to see how much progress he was making.

"I would appreciate that." She nodded firmly. "Your Captain also requested I seek your aid directly for my wounds."

McCoy sighed, wishing people would actually communicate with him. "Let me finish with this woman and then I'll treat you."

"No!" She shouted, voice echoing. "You will treat my crew first. I will not receive aid until they have been helped."

McCoy grunted rolling his eyes. "You Captains and your damn sentiments. Fine. I'll deal with the worst of it first, but once it's minor things you're letting me get a scan."

She frowned, glancing over at her first officer, who was being scanned by Chapel. She had nearly perfected the art of casually hearing everything. He seemed less than pleased when she began stabbing his neck with hypos, abusing him verbally. The captain finally nodded, returning to her assistance of the doctor's work.

… .. .

Jim would be pacing the bridge if he could. As it was, he was seated by the science station, pouring over PADDs and running over orders. He had come back clean with just a bit of time left on Alpha shift. Nothing had changed in that time. He was caught in a bureaucratic tangle when his Yeoman entered, carrying a tray of fruits and breads. A maintenance person had delivered him a chair and table some time into the subsequent shift. PADDs littered the surface and much of the floor, material she had brought him at his request.

The replacements that filled the bridge would glance repeatedly at him, so unused to their Captain and Commander's presence on the bridge that they considered it a treat.

Rand pushed the PADDS from the small table, earning a sharp look from both officers as she placed the tray down. She scowled, putting her hands on her hips when they looked at her in surprise. Well, Jim was surprised. Spock had one eyebrow lifted carefully.

"If you're going to skip dinner, have the decency to let me know. Your pilot and navigator both came to me saying you were still on the bridge."

"Sorry Janice." Kirk scowled, eyes already back on his work.

Rand sighed, turning on her heel and heading out of the bridge. A couple people watched her go before returning their focus to their work. Spock carefully took his fork, eating while he worked. Kirk didn't touch the food, much to his Commander's annoyance.

"Captain, neglecting your health has no foreseeable benefits."

"Fine. Whatever." Kirk growled, popping a grape in his mouth with little attention.

Spock repressed a shiver, trying to get Kirk to take a fork. He was completely ignored. Jim had returned to his work, no longer interested in the food. Spock didn't scowl. Scowling would be unbecoming and indicative of emotions he was most definitely not experiencing.

"Captain." He said a bit more forcefully.

Jim picked up a roll, throwing it at the First Officer. Spock caught it easily, eyes narrowing slightly. He hefted it a moment weighing his decisions before lobbing it directly back at the Captain. Jim barely caught it, mouth hanging open wide.

"You just threw that at me."

"I returned it in the same manner as you had previously seen fit to hand it to me." Spock watched closely as Kirk bit into it, grinning. "Why does it seem you are more inclined to eat food that you have used as a projectile than that which remains untouched?"

Jim nearly choked on his biscuit, laughing. "It's not like I'm going to waste good food, Spock."

"Throwing it is a waste, Captain."

"Not if you throw it back." Jim grinned, swallowing the last of his bread.

"I do not wish to place my hands upon your food. A fork would be more appropriate."

Jim groaned, throwing his arms up in exasperation. "Spock. It's finger food. You're supposed to use your hands as utensils. I know you've got that whole no touching food thing, but it's okay. I promise."

Spock watched him, clearly not convinced. Jim grinned, picking up an apple slice and pressing it to his lips. He ate it slowly, making sure his fingers only gently brushed his mouth before reaching back down to retrieve another fruit. Spock was transfixed, eyes a perplexingly dark chocolate. Jim couldn't tell if he was upset, curious, or something else entirely. He suspected it was a mix of the first two.

"Uh…Captain?" One brave crewmember, filling in for Uhura's spot in the late hour, attempted to catch his attention.

"Yeah?" Jim darted his eyes over to the man, immediately searching for a name to accompany the face. "Lieutenant Alden?"

"Sir…you're…a bit distracting." He was blushing faintly, glancing at the other crew members who were similarly red.

Jim laughed. "Sorry. I'll stop."

When he glanced back, Spock was once again intent on his work. He sighed, finishing another biscuit before disregarding the food. Spock eyed him with annoyance a moment before glancing at the food. His Captain was undoubtedly stubborn.

Jim yelped, falling out of his chair and gaining the attention of the entire bridge. Spock had stepped with him as he fell, kneeling beside him now that he was on the floor. Jim was gaping up at him, convinced he had just blown a gasket and was hallucinating. There was no way his First Officer, _Spock_, had just fed him a grape by hand.

"What the hell?" He nearly screeched.

"If you will not endeavor to care for yourself properly then I becomes my duty to do so for you, until you once again take it upon yourself or the Chief Medical Officer is again on board and may take your health in his own hands." Spock said calmly, ignoring the way the crew was staring at them.

And the distinct lack of logic in his own actions.

Jim flushed. This was ridiculous. There was no way he was going to let his first officer humiliate him like that. Even if no one else had actually seen him do it. He felt the first strums of defiance edging at his chest, a hardening of his resolve. His eyes narrowed and he had opened his mouth before he even gave himself time to think it through.

"I can take care of myself." Jim snarled.

"Then do so." Spock didn't sound surprised, or even off put by the tone.

"What makes you think I'm not, exactly?"

"Clearly you have no regard-"

"Shut up."

Everyone stilled. Spock drew back a little, eyebrows raised. The people observing attempted to slowly swivel back to their stations without gathering attention. They didn't have as much experience at it as his regular crew. Jim stood up, nose twitching slightly as he sneered. Spock had raised himself as well, returning his face to neutral. His eyes were a hard black, settle firmly on the nearly grey-blue of his Captain's.

"I don't want to hear it. I'm sick of this, of you."

No one on this shift had actually seen the two fight, though they had heard of a few encounters. On rare occasions over the course of their first month, they had come to words. They would argue one minute, and set it all aside the next to do their jobs. No one was quite sure why they rubbed each other the wrong way. The second month had, so far, been filled with obstinately ignoring each other.

Spock inclined his head to the side. "If you are ill, perhaps you should be in Sickbay."

Jim took two rough, shallow breaths, attempting in vain to calm himself. "If only. I don't want to be anywhere near you, but since that's not going to happen you should just shut up and let me do my thing."

Spock narrowed his eyes, glancing down at their hands. There was the slightest touch of anger bleeding through. He allowed himself to press, feeling the anger pulsing under his palm. Jim's eyes widened, the soft, tale-tell tingling in his hand leaving traces of hot, angry curiosity gnawing at the edges of his mind. He swore hotly in Klingon, earning surprised looks from everyone. And then he swung, nearly connecting with Spock's jaw.

The Commander leaned back at the last second, dodging the hit. He caught Jim's arm before he could take a second swing, twisting the Captain in his grip. Jim snarled, kicking back at Spock's leg as he was roughly shoved against the science controls. Their combined hands were locked under his stomach, Spock's other hand on his shoulder, preventing him from standing up.

"Let me go!"

"Fighting in these circumstances is a fruitless venture, Captain."

Kirk laughed, bitter, annoyed, and hollow. Something seemed to click in the commander as he felt the muscles under his hand strain, as though the tension in them was almost enough to snap. Spock released him, stepping back enough to allow Kirk to stand up, though not to turn around. Jim leaned back, slumping against his first officer as he rubbed his eyes, choking on his laugh.

"I know." He gasped, "I know. I'm sorry. I just…"

"I did not intend to be invasive." Spock twitched, unsure what to do.

Jim straightened up and Spock stepped back. The entire bridge snapped back to their consoles. Their command team was a little unusual. Jim just knew this was going to be the talk of the ship. As if his and Spock's interactions weren't already fuel for the gossip mills. Leaning back against the man probably wasn't the best choice.

He retrieved the PADD he had been working on and sat back down. Jim made a point of eating while he finished his work, though his stomach turned with every bite. He was probably developing an ulcer with all the stress he dealt with. Well, if he was he sure wasn't going to pay attention to it. Ignoring potential disasters had worked for him before, so why shouldn't it then? Spock made a point of not looking at him. They didn't speak the remainder of the shift, even when Kirk refused to retire for the night. When Rand looked to Spock for help, he simply informed her that Vulcans did not need as much sleep as humans.

She left in exasperation.

"Captain?"

Jim glanced up in surprise, seeing his officers standing at the entrance to the bridge, watching him. Why was it time seemed to keep getting away from him? Sulu was the one who had called out to him, but they all stood there, staring. Jim beamed up at them, hiding his weariness with a warm smile.

"Yes?"

"Have you been here all night?" Uhura asked when Sulu hesitated.

"Yes, Lieutenant Sulu, I have." He laughed, relishing the annoyed look she gave him.

"If that is all," Spock interrupted, before words could fly. "Please report to your posts."

Jim jumped, yelping as his communicator beeped. He laughed sheepishly as the crew shook their heads at him.

"Kirk here."

"Jim." Bones' voice was ragged, a touch of fear coloring it. "I'm beaming aboard with the Cardassian Captain."

"What's happening?"

"She's an idiot, that's what. As bad as you. If she'd have let me look at her before…" There was a crackle of interference as Bones was beamed aboard. "God I hate that."

Jim's communicator was silent a minute as they assumed Bones was issuing orders. When it next crackled to life there was the distinct sound of a gurney and several people running. McCoy's breath was short, but he had slipped into his doctor's voice. That voice boded no well, but it was completely steady, only touched with a fleeting exasperation.

"She's got internal bleeding Jim. Slammed into something when the ship shook. I told you Captain's chairs should have seatbelts. If I had caught it earlier she might not have needed surgery, but it's too late now. Thought you should know since I had to beam her on board. Let the green-blooded goblin handle the paperwork."

Jim frowned, sparing a glance for Spock. "Alright. Let me know when she's out of surgery. And update me then on how everything's going over there. Do you need security sent to Sickbay?"

"No Jim. And I'll tell you all about it later. McCoy out."

Jim sighed, rubbing his face in exasperation. "Spock? How many forms do I have to fill out because of this?"

"Seven. I can assist you with them, if you desire."

"Please." Jim gave him a tired smile, truly grateful for his assistance.

"I thought you were arguing?" Uhura asked with a raised eyebrow.

What was with his crew and eyebrows?

"Minor disagreement last night. Which reminds me." Jim stood up, popping his back with a grimace. "We should go eat breakfast before Rand gets up and finds out we skipped it."

"Indeed. We may proceed to work while eating." Spock inclined his head, standing from his post.

"Captain." Uhura sounded fairly annoyed. "Would you like me to have a Yeoman return all these PADDs to where they belong?"

Jim glanced at the substantial pile, before leaning down to root through it. Spock accepted the PADDs he handed up, not entirely sure of his reasoning behind selecting them. When he had selected six, he nodded to her.

"Have those put back, and have the content of these sent to Starfleet. Make sure it's express. I want to know they got it by the end of the day. I should have more for you soon."

"Captain." She agreed, taking the PADDs from them with only minor looks of annoyance. "Is that all?"

Jim looked thoughtful a moment, squashing his devilish grin. At the glare she and Spock gave him, he shook his head. It was probably the disapproving look from Spock that made him chuckle though.

It was nice to see the two were friends. Even if that meant Spock was protective of her.

"That's all."

… .. .

Spock was less than pleased when Jim left his half-uneaten breakfast to return to the bridge. There was honestly no reason for him to hurry back, but he did. Since Spock had already finished his meal, he could not actually complain. He was not interested in a repeat of the previous night's events either.

Come lunch time, it took Chekov to get them to the mess. At Uhura's invitation, Spock had agreed, but Jim was still bowed over his PADD. They had gotten through all but one of the documents and Jim insisted on getting it done. Sulu had finally managed to wrestle the PADD from him, but Jim was furious, snapping at him to give it back. It was times like this the Captain simply _oozed_ maturity.

Chekov whimpered, turning those big eyes and curls to his advantage. Sticking his lower lip out, he simply looked at Jim, not saying a word. Finally the young Captain broke down, throwing his hands up in the air and declaring that face an act of torture. It took him all of two seconds to see he wasn't the only one devastated by the pout. Undeniably, if he had managed to hold out any longer, he would have needed Spock to protect him.

"Thank you Keptin. Ve vorry about you. You should not awoid us, no?" He looked far too happy for someone who was just on the verge of tears.

"Yeah? Next negotiations we have I'm putting you on point to use that blasted pout in our favor." Jim growled playfully.

The mood lightened a bit and they relaxed on their way to the commons. Jim sighed affectionately as he lagged behind, watching the young officers chat together. He slowed to a stop, framing them with a touch of longing in his chest. The Captain's position was so lonely. A soft tug at his hand jolted him from his thoughts and he blinked repeatedly at his First Officer.

"Are you ill?"

"No."

"Then we should join them, Captain. They expect as much."

Jim felt his heart leap. There. Right there. In moments like that he got those fleeting impressions of friendship. Maybe they had a long way to go for trusting each other, but somehow, sometimes, Spock knew just what to say. There was that hint of something in his voice, like he understood. Maybe he did.

He nodded firmly and jogged to catch up with the group that had now stopped, looking back at them. Spock was more reluctant to run the short distance, but did not protest.

Surrounded by his laughing crew, Jim finished his meal with little thought and no protest what so ever. Spock felt his stomach twist at the treacherous holes in his defense. The slightest traces of something below that subtle happiness. He was alarmed to find he was becoming used to the constant presence of Jim's emotions. He resolved to meditate once the crisis was through and fortify his walls.

Bones stormed into the cafeteria, ignoring the stains of blood on his short sleeved medical shirt. Jim stood immediately, catching the doctor's attention. He was promptly waved down as McCoy headed to a replicator and ordered his food. He swiftly sat next to Jim, tearing into his sandwich with gusto.

"So things are good?" Jim smiled at him, easing the mood of the bridge crew.

"No, Jim, they are not. She'll live, but not for lack of trying." McCoy, narrowed his eyes, looking closer at the man. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

"Heh, no time." Jim shrugged.

"That's a damn lie and you know it." He growled already swiveling to levy a glare at Spock. "Are you out of your Vulcan mind? Don't just let him do these things."

"I assure you doctor, it was not within my power to force sleep on him."

"Yeah? And what's this I hear about you fighting?" McCoy said with an accusing tone.

"That was my fault." Jim interrupted. "I was too busy working so Spock tried to make me eat and…"

Jim blushed faintly, trailing off. The honest description would be to say he threw a fit. Honestly, he didn't want to say that in front of his crew. They may already know it, but that didn't mean they needed reminded of his immaturity. Bones shook his head, understanding perfectly.

"She should be waking up soon. You should come down and see her."

Jim blanched, waving his and Spock's hand in the air forcefully. "I don't want anyone seeing this! In case you've forgotten, we're still stuck together. It isn't exactly easy explaining to everyone that I'm bonded to my First Officer."

Half of the table made a rather undignified sound. Chekov looked as confused as him. Spock was dangerously silent, back ridged enough to make an architect jealous. Bones was attempting to use the Heimlich maneuver on himself as he was choking on his sandwich. Sulu looked like he wanted to laugh hysterically or run screaming. It was concerningly hard to tell which one. Uhura had her hand over her mouth, eyes wide in genuine horror.

Jim groaned, bringing his free hand up to his face. "What did I say and why shouldn't I have said it?"

"Captain." Spock's voice was just a bit tighter than usual. "While I am aware you referred simply to the affixed state of our hands due to the Ke'ruvian moss, the term bonded has…implicit implications in Vulcan society."

Jim's mouth fell open with a small 'Oh' as he realized what he had just implied. "Sorry. I didn't think about that…okay. That word is officially off limits now."

Now Sulu did laugh.

Everyone ignored him.

"You may not like it, but you can explain to her. Better yet, let the hob-goblin explain." McCoy growled, having finally cleared his airway. "Either way, you need to talk to her."

Jim had to consciously not use his puppy-dog eyes on Bones. "Do I have to?"

"Yes."

He sighed, leaning on McCoy heavily. "Please? Can't you just say I'm busy?"

"No. I'll call you down when she wakes up. You'll come. End of story."

"So how are things on her ship?"

"Scotty and his workers are amazing." McCoy shrugged. "Had most of the critical damage repaired in a few hours and was working on the minor things by the time I left. Of the injured alive when I beamed aboard, we only lost two. Considering how many were in critical condition, that's pretty good."

"Pretty good!" Jim laughed. "My crew's full of miracle workers."

"As a miracle is defined as something extraordinary, unexpected, or brought on by a deity, I therefore find your previous statement to be entirely inaccurate, Captain."

The crew didn't deflate at the Commander's words, though little, exasperated glances stole between them. McCoy was glaring, but that was his default look. Jim's eyes lit up nonetheless, a dazzling blue that didn't seem to belong on any known spectrum. McCoy caught his beaming look and frowned, regarding him like he was crazy.

"What are you so happy about?"

"Jeez, Bones, don't you know how to take a compliment?" Jim laughed, and the people at the table regarded him with confusion.

Everyone except Spock. It fascinated him, that Jim had followed his words to the logical conclusion and deemed them to be flattering. He honestly saw nothing extraordinary in the feats accomplished by the crew, as they supplied such actions daily. He supposed, when comparing them to other ships, their short service records would already prove exemplary.

"We should get back to the bridge and finish our work." Jim declared without further explanation.

Everyone sighed, but did as they were told. McCoy caught his shoulder, earning his attention. That happy, mischievous little twinkle was still in Jim's eyes. He hated that look, because it meant Kirk knew something McCoy didn't.

"You should get some rest Bones."

"So should you."

"Later." Jim agreed, off to do more paperwork.

Back on the bridge, Jim finished his work and handed it over to Spock to double check. When they were both convinced it was properly finished, they gave it to Uhura to send off. She told Jim that Starfleet had received the documents he had her send, but didn't sound too pleased about it.

He refused to tell her what was in them.

He frowned, watching over Spock's shoulder as he worked his station, since he had little else to do. Sooner or later, he would have more paperwork and a Cardassian captain to deal with. At the moment, he was free, which was dull. Most days, he wandered from the bridge, learning what he could about the different departments on his ship, picking up useful tricks, and helping in any way he could. Engineering was his specialty, so he tried to hang around other parts of the ship instead.

It occurred to him that he had never offered his help in science beyond a few of Sulu's botany projects.

"Hey Spock, could you show me what you're doing?"

Jim heard the distinct squeak of chairs abruptly being turned to face him. So he liked to learn, was that so shocking to his bridge crew? Spock regarded him with one brow raised dangerously high. It twitched lightly, as if prompting him to continue with an explanation before he would answer.

Jim grinned. "It'd be good if I knew how all this stuff worked, even if it's just a basic understanding."

Spock inclined his head to the side, other brow rising to join the first as he thought the statement over. "Indeed, Captain. I can only encourage your desire to learn more about the ship's systems and departments."

Jim's grin widened and soon the pair were poured over the station with Spock speaking quickly and quietly. Kirk catalogued the words he had trouble understanding, remembering to ask for clarification whenever they reached a pause. Spock looked…happy. His eyes were alight with held in glee, making them dance like the night sky. The words flew from his mouth with subtle force, tingling at Jim's ears.

He could only imagine how alive Spock's classes must have seemed. So thrilling, involved. He already hung from each word, and Spock was holding back. What he wouldn't give to hear that teacherly delight in full force.

He heard a soft yawn and glanced sharply back at his crew. To them, maybe, it sounded like Spock droned on in monotone, but Jim knew better. He turned back to the console, looking for the life of him like the eager young student.

Spock correlated him with a sponge, eagerly soaking up the knowledge he offered. It was a refreshing change. And yet another perplexing side of the Captain he was just coming to see.

… … .. . .. … …

**Aaaaaannnnd a professor reference finally gets made. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Not owning.**

**People familiar with TOS and some of the other incarnations may notice a few anachronisms throughout this entire story. I don't really care.**

… … .. . .. … …

Jim was just starting to really enjoy himself when Bones had to go and ruin it. Spock hadn't even considered continuing teaching him about the science station, insisting they head down to Sickbay, as was requested of them. With a whimper, asking for them to save him, he left his bridge crew behind. Sulu took the Conn. with minimum amusement.

"Are you sure we can't get out of going down there?"

"That would be irresponsible, Captain." Spock quirked his brow at him, never slowing a beat. "As the acting-"

"I know, Spock. As acting Captain it's my job to deal with her. Doesn't mean I want to do it." Jim sighed, rubbing at his temple even as they entered the Sickbay.

"Jim!" Bones snapped, heading them off immediately. "In there. Now."

With a sigh he straightened himself up and started towards the door to the surgery room. It wasn't until he pushed the door open that he really remembered that he was holding his First Officer's hand. Too late for that now.

The young Cardassian captain was propped up in her bead, swathed in bandages and looking put-upon by the task of remaining in Sickbay. She glanced over at Kirk and an unusual smile crossed her face before her eyes fell to his hand. The look of anger on her face was shocking. As was the cold look she snapped back to their faces.

"Is it common for Starfleet officers to kiss their employees?" She hissed.

Jim jumped, yanking his arm unsuccessfully as he turned a fair shade of red. "We're not! I…Damn it!"

"Captain?" Spock didn't look amused, to his credit, but even that curious little eyebrow was mocking him. "Perhaps explaining would be best."

"Don't mock me." He hissed, then turned to her sheepishly. "We're temporarily stuck together thanks to a lab experiment gone wrong."

Spock said nothing about the lie. She had no use for the information regarding the real occurrences. The harsh look on her face dissolved into confusion, and then finally into a challenging, happy thing. It was quite curious how she could manage such a look. Her motives behind it were entirely lost on the Vulcan science officer.

"I see. You're truly stupid to be so foolish, Captain Kirk."

He snapped straight up, eyes narrowing at her. "Not stupid enough to get my ass handed to me by Klingons."

"I imagine your ass is the only reason you were hired to your position." She snorted, looking him over.

Spock registered the faint sense of lust in Jim's reaction to those words, blunted by dim resignation and the negligible touch of something he could swear was fear. It was immediately quashed under annoyance. Curious.

"And here I thought Cardassians had no sense of aesthetics." He let a smirk splay across his face. "I was hired because I know what I'm doing, or haven't I proven that already."

"Your crew is highly skilled." She admitted, sitting up more in her seat.

Jim jumped forward, offering his arm to steady her. "Care to tell me what happened or are we going to bicker a bit more first?"

She racked him again with her eyes, then sighed. "Business before pleasure, I suppose."

Once she found a more comfortable seat in her bed, Jim gestured for her to begin speaking. She glanced at Spock, then disregarded him completely. It was interesting for him to watch their interactions.

"We were on a mission patrolling our border when we discovered a Klingon ship limping along. We followed it into Federation territory, where we were attacked by multiple ships. In the process of destroying multiple ships and chasing the rest off, our ship was damaged." She said it easily, like it were normal for Cardassians to invade Federation airspace.

"And you called me stupid, Captain Tain?" Jim asked incredulously.

"Natima, please," She purred. "Captains should be on a first name basis."

"Then call me Jim."

"Your Doctor McCoy tells me you asked him to argue with me in your stead."

Jim shrugged, on edge. "More or less. Why?"

"I'm flattered." She set her hand on his arm, leering openly.

Jim jumped in place, hiding his alarm behind a warm smile. "As much as I'd like to stay and talk, I have more important things to do."

She laughed, a trilling little thing. "That is a shame. Perhaps you can visit me again once you've…finished your duties."

She dipped her hand into Jim's, a quick little movement that jolted him all the same. He practically ran from the room. To his surprise, Spock was actually out of the door faster than him. McCoy looked up to see them heading for the main door, and promptly stepped in between. Spock drew up short, realizing what he was doing.

It was illogical to be offended by her actions, as they were not directed towards him.

It was logical for him to protect his Captain. He had felt unease at her actions from Jim and was simply acting on those transferred emotions. Logical. Meditation would be necessary to prevent further unwanted transfers. He could handle Jim's emotions though. And they were Jim's. He had no reason to be emotional over her actions.

"So what happened?" Bones growled, looking Jim over.

"Won her over with my manly charms." He said, almost meekly for the normally foolhardy Captain.

McCoy's scowl deepened as he spared a glance for the minutely flustered Vulcan. "Fine. Finish your work. Eat dinner. Get. To. Bed. You look like you need it."

"What about you?"

"I've set up a shift to take over on their ship. My crew's coming back in a few minutes and getting some rest. From what I hear Engineering and Security are doing the same."

"God. I forgot. Tell them all they have my approval to scream my ears off for being so insensitive and that they can take the time they need to get back onto a proper schedule once this is all over."

"They already know it."

"Now. What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Are you going to go eat and get to sleep anytime soon?"

McCoy glowered, looking Jim over with disdain. "I'm not an idiot like you. I'll get some rest as soon as I can. And you!" Spock regarded the finger he was pointing at him with a lightly quirked eyebrow. "Make sure he gets to bed. If you have to carry him there and sit on him to keep him down."

Spock blinked rapidly, an mildly affronted look in his eyes. "I find that course of action to be highly disagreeable. It is also likely to lead to a heated verbal exchange."

"I'll go to sleep when I'm done!" Jim insisted, glancing awkwardly away from both of them.

… .. .

After a few more awkward minutes and one completely non-clever attempt at distraction later, Bones released them to head back to the bridge. Jim was grateful for the silence as they headed back, vainly attempting to forget what just happened. He could have sworn Spock wanted him away from her. Storming back onto the bridge, he immediately turned to his favorite officer in the world.

"Uhura!" She snapped her attention to him immediately. "I need you to compile a report for me."

"Yes Captain?"

"Get me a list of all the cultures we currently know that use hand contact as a strictly intimate gesture."

He was aware of the distinct silence on the bridge before people began snickering. Some, distinctly pilots that deserved no favors from him, were laughing quite loudly. He frowned, thinking on something a moment before breaking up their laughter with a demanding cough.

"Ah-hem. Also, what do you know about flirting with Cardassians?"

She groaned, offering him a withering look. "I'm not your wingman."

"I believe the Captain is attempting to understand a prior transgression on his part that lead the Cardassian Captain to believe he was interested in liaisons with her." Spock offered diplomatically.

Jim would almost have believed he was jumping to his defense if he hadn't managed to make it even more embarrassing. And there was something of a smug tone to his voice, like he were proving a point. Uhura was looking at him in surprise. Well, both of them, actually.

"When did you get a chance to argue with her _that_ much?"

"Argue?"

"Arguing is a big part of their society. One of the many uses for it is flirting, Captain." She sounded a little exasperated and greatly incredulous. "But you've barely spoken to her."

Jim flushed, slapping his head as he realized what went wrong. "Yeah, but she thinks Bones' snappish attitude was on my orders. She actually though I was having him flirt with her for me!"

"That has to be some kind of new record." Sulu quipped, shaking his head. "You seduced a woman and you weren't even there for it."

"Be quiet you." He snapped playfully, grinning ear to ear. "Ug. I really don't want to have to include that in the report."

He was already heading back to the science station, where he had left his PADD earlier. Spock followed quietly, practically lost in his thoughts.

Jim was not please to be the center of her attention, yet he did not reject it. There was something dull hidden behind his false arousal. False. Spock was sure of it. It felt so wrong, hollow. He couldn't help but feel that it was forced, a tense emotion stretched taut. Shallow, the technicians had said. James T. Kirk was hiding behind shallow emotions.

To what end?

What good came from denying his human nature? Indeed, humans praised a wide variety of emotions. The complexity of their 'feelings' was something to be cultivated. Why would Kirk, the man who seemed determined to do as he pleased with no regard towards how others viewed him or his actions, deny some aspect of himself? Was he wrong about human society? Were there actually greater restraints over one's emotions than he had been lead to believe? Perhaps, he was expected to react a certain way, feel something specific, so he forced himself to.

That seemed all wrong. Kirk had proven time and again that he didn't care for the opinion others held of him. He was certainly not one for social tact in many situations. Why, then, would he behave like that?

"Spock!" Jim shouted in his Commander's ear, slapping his PADD against the side of his head.

Spock jolted a bit, looking up from his science station, where he had been only half focusing. "Captain?"

Jim was frowning at him, a rather sick look, something that didn't belong. "Spock?"

Somehow, the sound of his name sent a thrill of amusement through him. He raised his eyebrow, barely conveying that. "Yes Captain?"

"Don't space out on me like that."

"Captain-"

"Shut up." Jim was grinning though, no malice in his tone. "And look this over to see how bad I messed up."

He accepted the PADD with a nod, earning a wider grin. The report was, as he expected, flavored with the Captain's impartiality and unnecessary observations. With only a few corrections of the most unnecessary items, he passed it back. Jim read it over, eyes slowly widening as he noticed just how unchanged it was.

"You're seriously leaving it like this?"

"As it is your report, it would be inappropriate to alter your method of diction. My own report should suffice to clarify any points left vague or…inaccurate."

Jim frowned, narrowing his eyes, a much more natural look of displeasure. "Hey. My report is accurate."

"Perhaps it is my own unfamiliarity with your use of Standard that leads me to question the accuracy of phrases such as 'My First Officer is a cock-block.'" He radiated smugness through that little smirk.

Behind them, the bridge broke out into laughter. Even Chekov felt the need to grasp his sides as he doubled over. Uhura was giggling faintly, attempting to convey general disapproval and failing completely. Jim shrugged, looking only mildly embarrassed. He'd put a few unprofessional things in there in an attempt to get some kind of reaction. Most were more innocuous.

Finally, he flashed a wide grin, because he knew Spock chose to mention that phrase specifically. "Yeah, but you removed that phrase."

"You are free to re-write it if you please."

Jim laughed. "Okay, okay. I'll leave out some of the more casual phrasing next time."

"Captain." Uhura's voice was almost reproachful, earning a groan.

"What?"

She turned to look at him, lips pursed with discomfort. "We're receiving a transmission from the Admiralty. They want to speak with you and Commander Spock in private."

He hissed sharply, glancing at Spock. "Okay. Transfer it to the conference room. And send our reports to them as an additional measure."

"Yes Sir."

He was thrumming with nervous energy as he stood. Spock was silent as they left the bridge. He knew, as well as Kirk, that something was about to happen. Something that wouldn't be pleasing. Especially if they only wanted to speak to the two of them. He jerked his head sideways as the pressure against his hand changed.

Jim was squeezing his hand.

He looked pale, staring at that door with an ashen expression. Those strumming nerves were hot against Spock's hand, prickling anxiety stabbing at his defenses. He had always been aware, since his appointment, that Jim feared, in a strange sense of the word, his interactions with those of higher rank. He wasn't afraid of them, but of being found wanting. He was afraid of not being enough.

Jim's hand was hot, desperately clutching to him for a lifeline. It was something he would never have done consciously. Something he had seen his mother do with his father before steeling herself to face the elders. A simple kiss, shifting into a human gesture. And his father, in their moment of privacy, would make the subtlest of motions. It was the only thing he would allow himself, and had he known Spock was watching, he wouldn't have.

He squeezed back.

Jim jolted, looking at him in sheer humiliation. Spock felt a tinge of green creep up his cheeks. He hadn't thought. They stared at each other a moment, both too mortified to speak. Jim was so close to him, pupils dilated, blue eyes confused. So confused. He could feel it, hot at the back of his mind, tingling. He felt his flush deepen.

Jim watched it with bemused curiosity. Spock's eyes were alight with color, swirling with eddies of chocolate and darkness, ebbing with emotion and awash with something he couldn't define. His chest was tight, staring into those depths. He was so close, something he'd never imagined from his First Officer. He lurched, turning to the door.

Spock felt something chill in his chest and quickly quashed his emotions. Jim's eyes had turned a steely grey before he looked away. Pure, unadulterated confidence blocked every trace of latent emotion. There was something to the abrupt way he looked away that screamed of rejection.

Rejection of what, he could not tell though.

Probably, neither of them could.

No evidence of their strange encounter was visible on their faces when they entered the room. Jim pressed for the communication and the Admirals appeared on the screen, each from their own private offices. Pike was the only one not to glance down at their hands. He didn't hide his amused grin though.

"It seems you haven't quite figured that problem out yet."

Jim grimaced. "I've been preoccupied. Though just an hour ago I asked my communications officer to compile a list of how many cultures I'm making a fool of myself in with this."

He realized a second too late that the other Admirals were, in fact, listening. Judging by the choked back laugh of Admiral Barnett, it wasn't the wrong thing to say. He beamed at them, cocky, happy look radiating confidence. It was quickly squashed by a tight-lipped Admiral who's name he could not place.

"You'll have plenty of time to sort it out at the Starbase if you haven't figured it out by then." He was snappish, demeaning…definitely Fitzpatrick. "You will be staying there, on leave until then."

Jim's grin fell, the challenge in his eyes clear. "We'll have it worked out."

Spock inclined his head, voice cutting in in an almost rude manner. "I have doubts that the topic of such an urgent communication would be something we have already discussed extensively."

Jim felt just a touch of pride at their shocked faces. Spock had great timing. Pike was the only one not affronted. He immediately took over, making use of the stunned silence to divert to a safer, or at least more prudent, topic.

"Of course. It doesn't hurt to discuss old matters first though. What we need from you, both of you, is an analysis of this situation with the Cardassian ship."

Spock nodded, once. "We have sent our reports of the situation in expectance of this."

"You want my honest opinion, I think she's telling us straight. She says they chased a Klingon vessel they though was wounded into a trap. We are pretty far into Federation Space, but not too far from uncharted territories, or the Cardassian border." Jim shrugged a bit, glancing at Spock to see if he agreed.

"Based off of Lieutenant Scott's report, the situation was further exacerbated by the inability of their ship's damaged engines to forestall the drift the pervious encounter left them in." Spock agreed. "It would be illogical for them to injure their crew and damage their vessel simply to plan an attack on any ship that may have approached. The probability of a Federation starship finding them before the entire crew succumb to wounds and the malfunctioning life support, as we did, was approximately 0.00115 percent, given the relative traffic of the area, their damage communication systems and lack of available relays, and the condition of their ship."

Several of the Admirals inhaled sharply. It was all Jim could do not to do the same. Hearing it put like that, it was simply amazing that they had found them at all. He'd have asked why Scotty gave Spock the report, rather than immediately forwarding it to Jim's PADD, but he had a feeling Spock got more use out of it than he would have.

"That's certainly some odds." Archer whistled, long and slow.

"I believe it's safe to say the Enterprise should indeed proceed with the orders we considered previously." The tight-lipped Admiral nodded.

"What orders?" Jim asked cautiously.

Barnett spoke up promptly. "After receiving your initial reports, we opened communications with the Cardassian government. They assured us that the gave no orders to invade Federation space, but were sure there was a logical reason for their captain to have been there. We agreed that, if she should prove cooperative, we would offer aid to her and her crew and would assist them in returning to Cardassian space."

"Basically," Pike was quick to explain, "You'll be giving her a tow to the Starbase. There her crew will get extended medical aid and her ship will receive further repairs. Then she gets escorted back to the Cardassians so they can question her about her interactions with you."

Jim grunted in acknowledgment. "And then?"

"Well…" Pike offered his cynical smile. "Assuming they like what they hear, they want to negotiate a temporary treaty with the federation."

"What!" Jim yelped, eyes wide. "A treaty! Between Cardassians and the Federation!"

"Possibly." Pike laughed, ignoring the uncomfortable way the others shifted. "But you just have to drop them off. You won't even be their escorts back to the border."

"Then it would seem we should attempt to foster adequate relations with Captain Tain and her crew." Spock offered diplomatically.

"Of course." Jim grinned. "I think we've got that handled."

Pike and the others nodded in agreement. "Then we'll leave it up to you."

"I'll let her and my crew know first thing in the morning." Jim said diplomatically, which is to say not diplomatically at all, what is effectively described as a shit-eating-grin in place.

"The morning?" Another, previously silent man, Komack, asked.

"My crew can't do much about it yet. Her ship should be safe to move by then and she'll be recovered enough that she can decline if she wants. Until then, it would just put stress on my crew."

"True enough." Pike smirked. "Lets us know when you have."

"Yes, Sir." Jim nodded and, as soon as they began cutting transmission, slammed his palm on the disconnect button.

Spock watched him cautiously, raising on eyebrow in interest. "Fascinating."

"Shush you." Jim moaned, rubbing at his eyes. "I don't want to hear it."

"What, Captain?"

"That I handled that wrong. Or that we should have discussed the matter in private before this. Or that I may have just fed the brass more fuel for hating me."

"I believe it is the exact opposite, Captain." He allowed for the incredulous look and little sound of confusion. "It is very likely that, had you not handled the situation they way you did, you could have contributed to misunderstandings leading to aggression. They would be foolish not to see that and acknowledge what you have done positively. As we have just spoken with the Cardassian Captain and prioritized our reports before a discussion, we had no time to confer about the validity of her statements."

Jim bit his lip, looking at Spock like he were a godsend. He had been expecting the usual snark and silent quibbling. Really, he expected an hour long lecture on every point he did wrong and how he could have done it better.

"Further more," Spock resisted the urge to look away from him, feeling oddly embarrassed. "I agree with your assessment of the situation."

"Who are you and what have you done with my First Officer?" Jim asked breathlessly.

"Captain?" Spock's tone held a note of alarm. "I can assure you that I…"

He trailed off when Jim started to laugh, still breathless, the deep tone pleased with itself. He realized a moment later that Kirk was teasing him, attempting to express shock on their agreement. Jim looked up at him from where he had bowed his head into the crook of his arm, pillowing it on the table. His eyes were a salty blue-green, half-lidded with warm amusement and something primal.

Spock felt a spike of arousal at the look and was alarmed to find he was almost unsure of its origins.

Jim seemed to recognize the alarm in his eyes and jerked back, eyes shifting to his typical electric blue. Spock's heart was beating a bit faster than usual as his mind reeled, attempting to discern the reason for Jim's stimulated state. He also decided he desperately needed to meditate, having allowed himself to remain in contact with Jim's emotions too long. He was not aroused, but Jim's emotions had such a fierce effect on him because he wasn't properly shielding himself. He was supposed to block his Captain's thoughts _and_ emotions, not integrate them as a part of his normal routine.

He would not acclimate himself to the other man's touch, mental or physical.

Jim tried desperately not to beat himself up over what just happened. He'd been so happy, because he felt like he was finally getting somewhere with Spock. Maybe, he thought, just maybe, they could finally be friends. Damn him for not realizing his affectionate nature wouldn't go over well.

Coldly, with a distant, remotely happy feeling all he could muster along with his weak smile, Jim tugged on Spock's hand as he stood back up. "We should get back to the bridge."

"Yes." Spock agreed mechanically, wondering to himself if perhaps the feeling he had registered from the Captain was in fact another shield to hide something he did not wish to face.

He was undecided as to what thought concerned him more: That Jim felt something he would rather hide with blatant lust than admit to, or that something in Spock's actions had inadvertently stimulated his Captain to such a degree.

The second they stepped onto the bridge, all eyes were on them, looking for the world like they were expecting the apocalypse. Jim smiled at them in that casual, confidence inspiring manner and they relaxed immediately. It was as though the look told them instantly that whatever the news was, he had full faith in them. They could handle it, in his eyes, and that meant they saw themselves handling it too. Spock found it fascinating that the crew took such a comfort.

"Alright." Jim started, slapping his hand against the back of the Captain's chair, "There isn't much we can do right now until I talk to Scotty and Bones. Don't worry about the meeting, the brass is just being their usual selves. Get some food, get some rest, and we'll talk more in the morning."

Everyone sighed, relaxing further. The shift was almost over, so they would be able to comply with Jim's orders shortly. With one last smirk, he left Sulu on the Conn. to go find Scotty. True to form, the irate man was in engineering, bellowing over his communicator and threatening to transport back over to the Cardassian ship.

"Scotty!" Jim beamed, waving to get his attention.

"An' don't be thinking ye got away with anything." He directed darkly at his communicator before turning to the command team. "Cap'n. Commnd'r. Jus' geetn' me crew in gear."

"Good, good." Jim smirked, slapping his shoulder affectionately. "Come to the mess? Pretty sure there's a sandwich with your name on it."

"Aye, you suppose so?" Scotty grinned, wiping his hands clean on a nearby towel.

"So…" Jim grinned mischievously as they started out. "How _are_ the repairs on her ship coming?"

"It's a wee bit hard with the supplies we have." Scotty admitted, shrugging.

"Do you think it's safe for us to move it?"

"Move it, Cap'n?"

"Admirals want us to tow it to the Starbase so they can finish the repairs there." Jim shrugged, nonchalant, as the entered the mess.

"Oh, aye, we can do that."

… .. .

Spock was trailing behind Jim when they entered their room. Jim and Scott had spent the entirety of dinner discussing intricacies of the Cardassian ship. Jim had forced himself to finish his meal. Now, he was wobbling about their room, making as though he was simply going to collapse on the bed. Spock pulled him straight a bit, settling his free hand on his shoulder hesitantly.

"Captain?"

"I'm good." Jim insisted, setting to work on the fasteners on his shirt. "Just tired."

"You have not slept in over forty-eight hours." Spock agreed, easily removing his own shirt.

Jim was only partially done by the time Spock finished undressing and was wavering in place. Spock glanced at the bathroom a moment, wondering briefly how long it would be until he could finish his routine if the Captain was allowed to continue at his diminishing pace. Deciding Jim was likely to fall over from exhaustion soon, he reached out to assist with the fasteners on his shirt.

That woke him up. Jim yelped like he had been kicked, scrambling away from his First Officer's touch. Neither of them said a thing, but Jim was rapid in finishing his routine. Spock made no mention of the way Jim's hand shook and continued to shake until they were both in bed. Nor did he mention the way Jim faced away from him, in spite of the pressure it was sure to be applying to his shoulder and wrist.

There was nothing to mention about it, because he didn't understand where it was coming from. He should have stayed awake, meditated first, but he found sleep to be very welcoming, and decided no harm would come of returning to his usual routine.

… … .. . .. … …

**Smooth Jim. Real smooth. It can only go down hill from here.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Don't own.**

… … .. . .. … …

Sleep was a wonderful thing. It was warm, and fuzzy, and blissfully free of pains in the ass named Jim. It was also one of the best things anyone could do. Especially after two days and far too many extra hours to count of hard work. It was very likely that, if he could, McCoy would be asleep for some time.

He couldn't, though, because of the incessant beeping of his communicator.

Growling with displeasure, he flipped it open. "What?"

"Um…Doctor…" Sulu's voice wavered a bit and McCoy was sitting up bolt straight in his bed.

"Oh God. What has that idiot done now?"

"We…uh…that's the thing." Sulu sounded like he was starting to panic. "We don't really know. We can't find him and…if they're in their rooms they aren't answering…and only the CMO has the override codes…so."

McCoy groaned emphatically, swinging his legs off of the bed as he made to stand. "I'll go check on them. Calm down."

"Yes Sir."

McCoy blinked at his communicator, shaking his head a bit. Sometimes Sulu got a bit carried away with those Sirs. Panic, he guessed. As an after thought, he checked the time as he dressed. He was out of the room in seconds, still pulling on his shirt as he ran for their quarters.

Pounding on the door seemed to do nothing, not that he was surprised. If something was wrong, it probably would do nothing. He practically shouted his override code at the door, and had to slow down and repeat it to get it to register properly. The door seemed to recognize his anger though and popped out of his way with something akin to a bang.

That woke Jim up.

He yelped, attempting to thrash, which he found difficult as he was very nearly pinned in place. A deep growl echoed from somewhere above him, sending vibrations through his sleep-dulled mind.

Bones froze, eyes widening. He had watched as the sound of the door woke Jim with a jerk, which startled Spock awake. Jim's flailings were aborted by way of being tucked under a half-awake Vulcan, who had managed to shift himself into a defensive stance in spite of laying on the bed. The throaty growl of warning was promptly followed by a confused moment of blinking as Spock gathered his bearings. Jim was beet red, staring up at Spock in muted horror.

"Get off him you blasted Vulcan." Bones shrieked, darting into the room.

Spock obliged quickly, immediately putting Jim at arm's distance. Jim started to take quick shallow breaths, eyes slightly glazed. McCoy waved a light in his eyes, effectively snapping him out of his stupor. He moaned lightly, allowing himself to be scanned.

"I'm fine." He insisted, still blushing. "I just freaked out. Don't you know better than to wake me up like that?"

"You damn near gave me a heart attack too." Bones insisted, sighing when he was sure nothing was wrong. "What were you doing snuggling with the Vulcan in your sleep?"

Jim glanced sideways and met the eyes of his mildly confused First Officer. He quickly looked away, shrugging.

"I was asleep, okay. I don't know."

"What are your reasons for entering our rooms without permission?" Spock had managed to compose himself.

"You're late for your shift, that's what." McCoy pointed his finger at him angrily. "Sulu woke _me_ up because they couldn't get in here."

Jim laughed, a dismissive thing. "So we slept in a bit. Sulu shouldn't panic because we're a couple of minutes late."

"It's already an hour into your shift."

"What!" Jim yelped. "That's ridiculous."

"Doctor." Spock sounded tense, earning a surprised glance from both of them. "I believe you should scan me."

Both men stared at him in a stupor for a moment before McCoy jumped to do as he was asked. It was near impossible to get Spock to agree to something medical. If he was actually requesting it…well, McCoy didn't want to risk not doing something if there was a problem.

"Oh come on." Jim complained. "What, have you never overslept before?"

Spock glanced at him sharply. "Even if that were the case, Jim, what is considered 'oversleeping' for a Vulcan is still far less than for a human."

McCoy glanced up sharply at the use of Jim's name before returning to his scan. "I don't _see_ anything wrong, but you're right. Combine the excessive sleep with that little display back there, and there may be something wrong."

Spock's ears turned a pale green at the memory of actually growling, looming protectively over Jim. It was an illogical response to an intruder. Something so…emotional…was unlikely to be productive. Jim yawned loudly to his side, drawing everyone's attention.

"He's probably just getting transference of my exhaustion, or something. It's nothing to worry about." Jim insisted.

"To that degree?" McCoy asked skeptically.

"Well, he is a touch telepath and…"Jim flushed. "There was a lot of skin contact."

"Oh God." Bones made a retching sound. "Never say that again. Never. You hear me?"

"It is…possible." Spock agreed, looking very displeased.

"See?" Jim beamed. "Now get out. I need a shower and clothes."

"Eat, too." McCoy insisted, stretching a bit and collecting his tricorder. "I'll let Sulu know you two are alright and will be up in half-an-hour."

"Make it an hour." Jim said quickly. "I need to visit Natima. The Admirals want us to give her a tow to the Starbase as an act of kindness to get the Cardassians happy with us."

McCoy nodded, stifling a yawn of his own. "Okay. She should be able to survive on her ship, if she wants to go back, but I'd prefer to keep an eye on her until we get to somewhere with a better medical facility."

"Assuming she cooperates." Jim agreed, already dragging himself out of bed.

… .. .

If Jim was concerned by the utter silence, he didn't mention it. Spock hadn't said a damn thing to him, the entire time, made no comment when they ate quickly, and had ignored a casual question Jim posed as they were headed down to Sickbay. Sure, it was stupid to ask how he was doing, but he didn't even receive a raised eyebrow to that effect.

Sighing, he waved a good morning to Chapel and headed into Natima's room. She was sitting up, eating her breakfast slowly when she spotted them. Her face lit up a bit, but, invariably, her eyes darted downward and a tinge of jealousy flicked through them.

"I see you're still too stupid to solve a little problem." She teased.

"Seems I've…had my hands full." Jim grinned at his poor joke, earning a soft titter.

He sat on the edge of her bed, ignoring how Spock purposefully distanced himself as much as possible from the interaction. He had no idea that Spock was bracing himself for the discomfort of Jim's emotions. Two days without meditation were proving harder on his barriers than he would have calculated.

"I've got good news and bad news," Jim offered a false frown, clearly not serious. "Which would you like first?"

"How about the good?" She looked at him with a touch of suspicion.

"Well." Jim grinned again. "It seems my bosses and your bosses got together and decided I should give you a tow to a Federation Starbase so you can receive further aid and be on your way back to Cardassian space."

She blinked in surprise, pursing her lips. "That is good news."

Jim sighed dramatically. "The bad news is, you'll have to put up with me for another day or two."

She practically hummed, setting her hand in his affectionately. "How terrible. It almost isn't worth it."

He beamed at her, squeezing her hand lightly. "You're not so weak that it'll be a problem, are you?"

"Of course not." She sniffed indignantly, turning her head in mock anger.

"Good." Jim purred, allowing his eyes to fall half-closed.

She glanced a moment at Spock before returning her eyes to Jim. "Perhaps you can test my strength sometime once you've separated yourself from your problem."

Jim mimicked her glance at Spock before shrugging lightly, offering her a small smirk. "I wouldn't want to intrude on your healing."

"It would be no intrusion." She insisted. "I find a little exercise does wonders when you're healing."

Jim barred his teeth at her in a feral smile. "Is that so? I'll have to do a little research into that."

"I may just be a willing test subject."

Jim squeezed her hand lightly again, wild smile widening at the light blush on her cheeks. He stood silently and cast her one last, flirtatious look over his shoulder before leaving. To his surprise, he found himself being half dragged to the turbo lift. Spock almost violently pressed for the bridge, and Jim reached over and promptly slammed the lift to a stop.

"What the hell?" Jim snapped, feeling on edge.

Spock looked away from him, not answering. He had no answer. It was none of his business, and anything he said would cause Jim anger.

"Answer me!" Jim barked. "As your Captain I'm ordering you to answer me!"

Spock turned to him coldly, face revealing nothing of his emotions. "Why do you lie to her?"

"Lie? How am I lying?" Jim leaned back against the wall of the lift, fixing him with a dark stare.

Spock shifted his weight, putting off his answer as long as he could until Jim looked ready to snap again. "You do not wish to engage in coitus with her, and yet you led her to believe you did."

Jim tensed. "Excuse me?"

"Your emotions during your encounter led me to believe you were…displeased…by the idea, and yet you continued to pursue it."

Jim sputtered a bit, gawking at that statement. "That's not…It's not that simple. Just because I'm not that interested in her doesn't mean we can't have casual sex."

Spock raised one eyebrow. "You would have relations with her against your will?"

"It's not…it isn't like that." Jim glanced away. "Look. I'm just doing what I was told. I'm forming good relations and keeping her entertained."

Wrong word choice. He could feel Spock tensing and looked up to see eyes darkened by anger. He tried not to shudder as he held his gaze, and he felt he did a pretty good job of it, only flinching a bit.

"You would use your body as a bargaining chip for the Federation?" He nearly hissed the words, something Jim hadn't thought he could do.

"It isn't that unusual," Jim insisted. "And it isn't like I wouldn't like it. I don't have to be looking for a steady relationship to have sex."

There was that deep growling sound again and Jim froze like a cornered animal. Spock was staring at him intensely, causing him to squirm a bit and look away. What the hell was his problem?

"I will not allow you to do something so foolish." Spock growled, a menacing tone that spoke of finality. "You do not want her, so she shall not have you. She will find another way to remain entertained."

Jim burst to life at being told he couldn't do something, body roaring with anger as he clenched his free hand into a fist. "You have absolutely no say in who I do and don't sleep with! It's none of your business! You don't even like me! Keep your nose out of it!"

Spock was too angry to even bother with the colloquialism. "As long as I am connected to you it will be my business. I will not allow you to see her again."

Jim snarled, blue eyes silver with anger. "What the hell do you know? You don't know me."

Spock tensed, an entirely different way than before as he caught the echo of Jim's anger coursing through him and slammed a wall up as quickly as he could. The effort brought them both to their knees, causing Jim to look at him in confusion as he clutched his head. He was dizzy, the steady buzz that had grown with his anger completely gone in an enlightening burst. Spock panted with exertion, feeling weak and sick with the energy it took to erect such a heavy barrier so quickly. It would crack, he knew, and likely be a floodgate of emotion if he could not form a proper shield.

He would not allow it to slip, then, until he found time to properly meditate. He couldn't.

"I apologize." Spock nearly whispered. "It seems I do not have proper control over my barriers."

Jim frowned, anger forgotten to worry for a crewmember. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I am fine." It wasn't a lie, not yet. "I should not have been studying your emotions during your interactions with the Cardassian Captain."

Jim shrugged. "You didn't mean too. It's fine. Just don't jump to conclusions."

Spock glanced up at him sharply. "You admitted that you had no interest for her."

Jim tensed, before deciding to let it go. "Not a real interest, but she likes me. I like that."

If the confusion in his Commander's eyes was anything to go by, the discussion was done. Spock would be pondering that statement for a while. Jim just hoped he hadn't been too honest. Everyone knew he was a bit of a slut or at least promiscuous. Hopefully Spock would leave it at that. Jim stood again, noting the easy way Spock glided to his feet with him, and restarted the lift.

Walking onto the bridge on his ship was usually something of a show. He had gotten used to it. He was apparently not ready for the little Russian 'nawigator' to come flying at them. He and Spock both caught the door frame with their free hands, Chekov wrapping his arms around both of their torsos. Spock had gone very still, spine straight as physically possible. Jim snapped his head up to look at Sulu, who was staring sheepishly.

"Damn it Sulu!" Jim roared playfully. "Get him off me!"

"He's not my responsibility, Captain." Sulu sounded relieved, slinking back to his seat from the command chair.

"Clearly if you hugged him more he wouldn't feel so starved for affection that he'd go seeking it from a Vulcan." Jim shot back, prying Chekov's arm from his waist. "Do me a favor, kid?"

Chekov snapped his head up to look at him expectantly, loosening his grip on Spock, but not releasing him. "Yes Keptin?"

"I hear Sulu was freaking out in my absence. Could you go give him a hug to reassure him?" Jim noted the small look of horror on Sulu's face.

Chekov nodded enthusiastically and rocketed back across the bridge, knocking Sulu from his chair with the force of hitting him. Said pilot groaned softly from his new position sprawled under the navigator. Poor, cute, innocent Chekov. Jim shook his head, grinning at the crew, who were shaking their heads as well. Heading up to sit in the chair, he forced an important look on his face. People stopped their chatter and turned to look at him. Sulu and Chekov had even looked up at him, though they were still a tangle on the floor.

He was a bit grateful Spock was by his side whenever he did these announcements, even if it wasn't voluntary this time.

"Alright everyone. Here's the news. We're going to drag the Cardassian ship to the Starbase. Apparently we're playing political hot potato." Jim raised his hand for silence when they began to murmur. "That is the extent of our role in it."

"How fast can we travel?" Sulu asked from the floor, pushing himself up as Chekov scrambled to get back to his seat.

"Good question." Jim admitted. "Bridge to engineering."

"Cap'n?"

"How fast can we tow that deadweight Scotty?"

"Warp 1 should be safe…" He trailed off, the sound of a PADD being accessed filtering through the Comm. "We handled the hull first Cap'n. Her engines can'nawt do it themselves, but it can survive the tow."

"Alright, thanks." Jim glanced purposefully at Sulu. "We'll be making the announcement and leaving soon. Be sure to tell all of my crew currently aboard the Cardassian ship. I want no surprises for them. Let their second in command beam over to speak with his Captain if he wants."

"Aye Cap'n. I'll let ye know when I've done that."

"Very good. Kirk out." Jim glanced over at Chekov. "Prepare for a ship wide announcement. As soon as Scotty gives us the go, we're out of here."

"Yes Sir."

"Sir." Sulu quickly got his attention. "Assuming nothing goes wrong we should be able to reach the base by lunch in two days."

Jim grinned, nodding to him. "Good."

… .. .

It hadn't taken long for the ship to get lurching along. Come lunch, Jim was officially tired of paperwork. Sitting at the lunch table with his officers, and one grumpy doctor who considered it breakfast, he joked about starting a countdown until they reached the Starbase. Sulu began instantly discussing the wiring of a cheerful voice to announce on the hour.

Spock was the first to notice Ensign Lynn and his fellow lab techs approaching. When he acknowledged them, Jim spun around, twisting his arm awkwardly to offer them a cheerful greeting. Judging by the excited looks on their faces, he was sure they had managed to complete their little side task.

"Figure anything out?" He asked as soon as they were close enough he wouldn't have to shout.

"Yes!" Lynn shouted anyway. "We think we've got the answer."

"Proceed." Spock inclined his head to them when they glanced nervously at the gathered bridge crew.

"Well, we were right about our hypothesis." Lynn smiled weakly. "The moss _is_ reacting to your barriers. The problem is that it takes very little to make it stick. We looked over the meeting notes and figured out something the Ke'ruvians didn't tell us about this."

Spock and Jim exchanged frowns. Or at least some semblance of their own version of a frown. Behind them, the entire bridge crew shifted, tensing a bit. Lynn paused a moment, hesitating at the sudden seriousness before the three with him nudged him to press on.

"It was buried deep in some of the cultural background they provided, but it didn't directly make mention of the moss. If it is correlated, which we find there to be a 98.7 percent chance it is, then we know how to remove the moss."

"That's great." Jim beamed at him, earning an embarrassed blush at the praise. "So we should definitely give this a try then, right?"

Lynn winced, looking suddenly distraught. That cause Jim to frown again, fixing him with a serious look.

"Ensign, is there something dangerous about this that would make 1.3 percent seem like a lot worse odds?"

"Aside from you being involved?" Bones quipped, but was listening closely, ready for any mention of danger.

"Um…not to you." He looked guiltily over at Spock, who raised both his eyebrows in response.

Jim tensed, feeling he entire crew edging at his back, watching. "No. Find another way then."

"I would like to hear an explanation of what they found." Spock overrode Jim's command. "It would allow me to asses the actual validity and value of their findings, as well as provide a possible alternative."

Jim huffed, nodding slightly. He had already decided, though, that there was no way he was going to do it. If it hurt Spock, it wasn't worth it. There had to be another way. Lynn shrank back at his look and the woman promptly stepped forward, taking over.

"While looking through their brief and highly inaccurate historical records," She growled with disdain at that thought. "We found references to a supposedly common exercise…punishment you might say, ordered on feuding citizens. It involved clasping hands and having a volatile discussion, the purpose of which was to run through as many emotions as possible as quickly as possible. It would, effectively, lower barriers and skew any baseline for stagnant emotions that could be considered being used as barriers."

Spock nodded his head. "To be successful, I would be forced to remove my barriers and actively attempt to elicit repeated emotional responses."

Jim winced, apologetically. "Oh. Okay. That's not going to happen."

Spock turned to him, raising one eyebrow. "Perhaps not in that manner, but it is plausible that I could use your emotions as a basis to alter my own emotional state."

Jim scowled. "I don't think that will work. I mean, I know about the emotional transference and everything, but you can't just imitate emotion."

"It would not be imitation." Spock insisted. "I would simply project the transferred emotions to…deceive the moss."

"Because you can't feel on your own." Jim remarked cattily.

He was oblivious to the horrified stare of his bridge crew. Bones' eyes widened and he reached into his bag to find a hypospray, readying it incase it proved necessary. Uhura slowly started to stand, eyes darting between the pair. The four ensigns backed away quickly, watching in mild alarm. Spock twitched.

"I believe you've already proven that statement to be false." The frost in his voice was hard to detect, but a certain, bitter cold.

"Then is it just that you're scared to open up to emotion? Let alone have to show them?" His jerkass tone was doing him no favors in the eyes of his stunned crew at the moment.

He wasn't even sure what egged him on. He shouldn't have a problem. He couldn't find a valid reason to argue against Spock's logic. Somehow, though, the thought of just playing 'pass the emotion around' set him on edge. His hackles were raised by some distant thought and now they simply wouldn't lay back down and listen to logic.

"You understand nothing of fear." Spock narrowed his eyes, momentarily forgetting the crew even as Jim sprung to his feet, nearly colliding with the nearby wall.

Jim hissed as Spock followed him into a standing position. "I don't know fear? Hah. You don't know anything! You probably haven't even experienced a fraction of the horrors I have. You don't know how many different kinds of fear there are."

McCoy was on his feet, looking positively horrified. "Jim! This isn't the place!"

Jim was deaf to what he said. "You only think you know what fear, and hate, and horror, and loathing are. You know nothing."

Spock pushed him back against the wall, looming over him angrily. "You could never begin to understand what I have faced."

"Spock!" Uhura called, taking a tentative step forward.

Neither of them noticed.

"You don't understand pain and loneliness. Don't lecture me on facing things!" Jim snarled, free hand pushing Spock away.

Spock roared at him, slamming him harder against the wall and pinning him there. "If you truly wish to understand then I shall show you."

"Don't!" McCoy and Uhura shouted at once, not knowing what exactly they were protesting, but knowing they needed to.

The crew watched with bated breath.

Spock's free right hand flew up to Jim's face. For a split second Jim's eyes widened with horror as he realized what was about to happen. His vision snapped white as he was flooded with foreign emotions. No images, no words, no context. Just emotions. Deep, flooding emotions, rife with pain and horror and terror. Spock pressed into him, washing the emotions of his youth over him.

Jim gasped, and pressed back. He allowed himself to focus on the things he'd been through, just how they felt, and shoved back. A thrilling buzz coursed through him, like he were doing something he shouldn't be able to. He could feel Spock drawing in the emotions, against his will. Spock broke the connection as quickly as he could, shying away from the soul wrenching pain he found there. He was thankful there was no context, as the shattering emotions were too much on their own.

Bones had watched as Spock's hand flew up and gripped his hypo tight, jumping forward to pull him from Jim. Uhura screamed at him to stop, yanking him back from them.

"You could hurt them both!"

He tensed, watching as Jim slumped against the wall, held up only by Spock. His blue eyes were open, a glassy, translucent color devoid of everything. He was surprised to see Jim and Spock suddenly drop, Vulcan eyes flying open as both of them hit the ground. He jumped to Jim's aid, pushing the Vulcan away from him with prejudice. To his surprise, he found Uhura on Jim's other side, hands hovering over him in futile horror. Sulu sprang to his feet, snatching the moss from their now separated hands.

He always was a quick and eager thinker.

All at once he deposited it in the young ensign's hand and told them to get it to the lab. Turning back, he watched as Jim blinked wearily, finally coming to. Spock was attempting to stand, and crashed into the ground hard instead. Uhura wasn't sparing him a look.

"Up." McCoy demanded, looping his arm around Jim's torso. "You're going to Sickbay to get scanned."

Uhura caught his other side, earning a confused look from Jim. "Shouldn't you help Spock?"

She froze. Everyone did. "No. Sulu, Chekov, get him and bring him to Sickbay."

Both of them jumped to do as she asked, too surprised to say no. Spock shuddered openly at their touch, trying weakly to pull away. They ignored it, helping him to his feet and bracing to keep him there. Jim and his escorts were already out the door headed rapidly towards the turbo lift. Sulu and Chekov hesitated a moment, then began to follow.

They reached Sickbay after Jim and Chapel directed them to place Spock in a far bed. She looked worried, constantly glancing to the bed on the opposite side of the room, privacy curtain drawn around it. McCoy let himself out of the curtain and instantly caught sight of them. They yelped, scrambling away as he stormed over.

"You're damn lucky he's aright." He howled, bearing down on Spock. "If there's anything wrong with you, you can figure it out yourself because I'm not helping you."

Spock blinked up at him, slowly nodding in acknowledgment.

McCoy growled, gripping Spock's uniform and yanking him up. "If you ever, _ever_ touch him like that again I will not hesitate to kill you in the slowest, most painful way I know how."

Everyone shivered at the freezing, serious tone. Even Spock. The doctor was Jim's friend. They had no doubt that he was serious with his threat. Spock turned his dull grey-brown eyes up at McCoy, looking hollow. His voice came out a grating, broken sound.

"Never." It was such a soft word, full of unrestrained conviction. "I'll never…"

McCoy let go of him, eyes widening a bit. He recognized the empty pain in those eyes and the meekness that confronted him. He glanced back towards Jim's bed, wondering if he gave as good as he got. Grunting, he yanked the privacy curtain closed and ushered them out. Uhura was watching now, standing at the far end of the room with tears in her eyes.

"Is he alright?" Sulu asked nervously, aware of the clammy grip Chekov had on his arm.

"He's unconscious." She admitted. "He passed out as soon as he got here."

"He should be fine." Bones clarified immediately, glancing back at the now closed curtain. "Jim did a lot of damage too."

She hissed a bit, conflicting emotions flitting across her face. "Good. I…I can forgive him for doing something like that to Kirk."

McCoy grimaced, pushing them towards the door. "Back to the bridge. You have work to do. I'll keep an eye on them."

With once last glance, they trudged away. Chapel hurried off to tend her duties, pointedly not asking. McCoy slipped back into the little area formed by the privacy curtain around Spock's bed. He hadn't moved, except to stare down at his hands in blunt horror.

"Are you brain dead?" He snapped, bringing his tricorder up grudgingly.

Spock slowly looked up at him. "I have hurt him."

"No shit." He snarled, jabbing a hypo in Spock's neck.

"I…was wrong." Spock admitted slowly. "I did not know."

"Didn't know what?" McCoy stilled, cold fear washing over him.

"When I was young, I was taught that Vulcans felt far deeper than others. The intensity of these emotions are why we must control them, purge ourselves of them." Spock hesitated, unwilling to share so much, but knowing he had to. "He has lived with far deeper emotions than I could have imagined."

McCoy frowned a bit, as uncomfortable with the sharing session as Spock was. "What do you know about it?"

Spock raised an eyebrow, finally getting a bit of his senses back. "I only experienced his emotions. I do not know what he experienced to cause such horrors."

McCoy nodded, packing up and turning to go. "Good."

"Doctor?"

"What?" He knew he sounded exhausted, but dealing with Jim did that to him.

"I am sorry."

"I bet." He left it at that.

… … .. . .. … …

**And we begin to touch on the actual theme of this fic. Took long enough.**


	9. Chapter 9

…**Seriously…I don't own Star Trek.**

… … .. . .. … …

It was late in the night when Jim woke, blood curdling scream echoing through Sickbay. McCoy was at the edge of his bed in seconds, having fallen asleep at his desk. Jim thrashed, attempting to detangle himself from his sheets and lurch into a standing position. McCoy hypoed him quickly, watching as the calming drug let his friend ease back into a cognitive state.

"It's okay Jim. It's okay. You're on the Enterprise. You're okay." McCoy whispered to him, rubbing soothing circles at his back.

Jim panted, nodding slowly. "Bones."

"It's okay Jim. I'm right here." McCoy glanced up, seeing Chapel at the edge of the privacy curtain.

"D-Doctor." She looked away quickly. "The Miss Tain…Captain Natima, is asking if he's alright."

"He's fine. Tell her it's none of her business." McCoy snapped.

She nodded quickly, eyes flicking back to her pale, sweating Captain. She looked like she wanted to challenge his assessment of Jim, but didn't. Instead, she turned quickly on her heel and headed to the Cardassian captain's room. Slowly, McCoy helped Jim lay back in the bed and straightened his blankets.

"Sorry."

"It's fine." Bones insisted.

"H…How's Spock?" His voice was full of hesitation, his eyes directed down at his hands.

McCoy hissed, glaring at nothing in particular. "He's been meditating the entire time."

"Oh." Jim said flatly. "Did I…?"

"Hurt him?" McCoy snorted. "Yes. Probably no more than he hurt you. The entire ship's been talking about it. Everyone came down at the end of their shift to see you. Thanks to Uhura's reaction, he's basically a pariah on the ship. Until she forgives him, no one will give him a second glance, and until you forgive him, she won't."

"What!" Jim shouted, struggling against Bones to sit back up. "No! I'm not mad at him! I forgive him! We were both being stupid!"

"Jim, he hurt you." He was seething with anger. "He invaded your mind without permission."

"It wasn't like that."

"Yes. It was."

"I pushed him into it. I knew his barriers weren't doing so well and I was goading him. I deserved it." Jim insisted.

"No one deserves that." Bones countered, "I don't know exactly what he put you through, but if it was anything like what you put him through-"

"See? You said it yourself. _No one_ deserves that and I returned the favor." Jim folded his arms across his chest, having effectively won by his standards.

"Humans are psy-null Jim." McCoy rolled his eyes. "Anything that happened then he had coming to him."

"I know you don't like him but I forgive him. Tell Uhura that."

"Jim…"

"Tell her."

He sighed, standing up and rubbing wearily at his eyes. "Fine, but I'm adding in the fact that I think you're unstable."

… .. .

When Jim woke again, it was early morning. Uhura came in when he was almost finished dressing. He beamed at her and waved her over to sit on his bed, not bothering to be embarrassed by his state of partial dress. She remained standing, guiltily looking away.

"It is so nice not to have to worry about clasps anymore." He said with a laugh. "I spent like an hour in the sonic shower. And scrubbed my hand sore."

She shifted a bit in place, looking up at him. "You should be mad at him."

He stilled a moment, then finished pulling his shirt on. "I'm not. If I got mad at him for every stupid thing I pushed him into doing we'd never learn to get along."

"At this point I should tell you to stop pushing him into doing stupid things then." She said wryly.

"Should?"

"What he did wasn't just stupid. It was inexcusable. He knows that. Just…don't be surprised if he doesn't forgive himself as easily as you do." She shrugged a bit, guiltily looking away.

"I'm not mad at you, you know." Jim frowned, trying to find the source of her new discomfort.

Uhura looked back at him in surprise. "Why would you be mad at me?"

"I don't know." Jim huffed. "Why do you look so guilty?"

"I…I don't know. Ug. Why am I even trying to talk to you?" She folded her arms in annoyance.

"Because you don't think I really forgive him, and you really want to yourself." Jim nodded when her eyes widened. "It's okay, you know. Eye for an eye and all that. We don't hold grudges, we get even. He called me out on my dad, I called him out on his mother."

"That's not the same as this!"

"Sure it is. He hit me with a bunch of the pain he's been feeling, I hit him with some of mine."

"Some?" She frowned suddenly, twitching like she wanted to look over her shoulder at where Spock's bed was.

"He's not there. Left sometime in the night for his own room." Jim said when he caught her eye movement. "And yeah, some. I've already been a jerk to him and let's face it, I wasn't crushed by my dad's death like he was by his mom's. We're even."

"That's not how this works, Captain."

"It is, because I said so. If he's got a problem with it, then he can bring it up to me."

She sighed, shaking her head and smiling in spite of herself. "You really are something Kirk."

"Thanks, now get out of here. I have to eat some nasty Sickbay food. Seriously. It's the same food as every other replicator, except it's not. It has that bland, nutritional taste." He grinned at her, shooing her off.

She sighed. "Will you be on the bridge then?"

"Yup. I'm all good."

… .. .

Jim was beginning to feel nervous, eyes flicking to the science station every few seconds. The _empty_ science station. It was already three hours into the shift, and Spock had yet to report for duty. He'd been lenient, assuming Spock needed some time to himself, but he should have at least alerted them. It was negligent to just not show up. Now he knew where Sulu was coming from.

"Uhura." Jim didn't actually mean to snap, and looked uncomfortable as soon as he did.

"Yes Captain?" She turned to look at him, and frowned when his eyes once again darted to the science station. "Would you like me to call Commander Spock to the bridge?"

Jim flushed, sinking in his chair a bit when people glanced towards him. "Uh…Yes please."

"Of course Captain." She pressed a few buttons on her console and waited a moment.

There was no answer.

She scowled, repeating the motion. Kirk was watching her with a slowly panicking look. She glanced back at him, and promptly glowered, pushing in the code for her communicator's override. The feed opened directly to her headset, and she jumped, throwing it from her ear in shock. Kirk was at her side in a second in full panic mode.

"Uhura?"

She disconnected the feed immediately, rubbing gently at her abused ear. "It's nothing Captain. He isn't answering. I'll go retrieve him personally."

"Oh…Okay?" Jim frowned minutely, allowing his heart to slow in his chest. He knew there was something she wasn't telling him.

She turned on her heel and marched out of the bridge, handing her station over to an assistant. She was surprised to have been assaulted with the sound of classical Vulcan music. She knew Spock had a lute…harp…thing from his home planet, but he had never played it for her. She could understand why, now. Music gave far too easily to emotions and, while he could no doubt play the songs he knew with technical perfection, he feared his human emotions would be obvious through the music.

Obvious like it had been just then. Uhura felt almost as if she had violated some private thing, hearing the torment of the music he played. She didn't bother knocking on his door, but told the computer to announce her. There was a tense moment of silence outside his door, and she briefly considered having to computer announce her again. The door slid open though.

Her first thought was how it must have been impossible to breath, the rich, thick, stifling scent of incense wafting out the open door and nearly choking her. Then she noticed that Spock was staring at her, expressionless, dressed in meditation robes, waiting.

"Your *cough* Your presence is requested on the bridge." Her eyes were watering and she took a step back as politely as she could.

He made no move to comply, or to ignore her. She folded her arms, feeling slightly jilted by the cold look he had fixed her with.

"It wasn't actually a request, you know?" She felt her voice shaking and bit her lip. "Kirk is furious that you didn't even call in to let him know you wouldn't be joining us on the bridge."

So she embellished a bit. It got him moving as Spock quickly turned around and shut his door. Her eyes widened, feeling affronted that he had just done that. No acknowledgement of what she said. Not even a look to say 'I don't care.' He just turned around. Uhura puffed out her cheeks, readying to pound on his door until he paid attention.

The door slid open again, revealing the now dressed First Officer. He cast one blank look at her, and then proceeded down the hall. She hurried after him, steadily becoming more and more confused. She entered the turbo lift behind him, but didn't stop its motion.

"Why are you acting like this?"

He very nearly glanced at her, twitching with the motion. She noticed the aborted action, and felt her chest clench. Had he closed himself off because he felt he was being too emotional? How long was he going to be utterly silent, detached and…alone. She looked him over quickly, something of her cultural studies nagging at the back of her mind. Something about Vulcans.

"You honestly think remaining silent and alone will, what, atone for what you did?" She asked incredulously.

Spock twitched again, as close to a yes as she would get. She knew of the Vulcan spiritual day, Kal Rekk, which was still a long time away. It was a day of atonement, solitude, and silence. If he were taking such devout methods in an attempt to right what he did wrong, she couldn't help but feel for him. He knew what he did was condemnable by Vulcan standards. By most standards.

"He won't understand." Uhura informed him. "He doesn't know Vulcan culture. He doesn't even _blame_ you. He should, but he doesn't."

Spock closed his eyes.

She pressed on. "I won't explain it to him. It isn't fair for you to apologize how you're most comfortable. You should speak to him."

He twitched again, then promptly exited the turbo lift. She sighed, following him onto the bridge. Immediately, she took her seat, watching as Jim sprang to his feet, sparing her a grateful glimpse. Spock paused a moment, waiting for Jim to speak. When he didn't immediately, Spock walked to his station silently and sat down to work.

Heartbroken was a bit harsh, perhaps, but Kirk was definitely crestfallen.

He slumped back into his seat, eyes wide and glassy. The crew shifted awkwardly, not really sure of what was happening, but knowing something was going on.

Jim's mind raced. McCoy had told him that Spock said he had only experienced his emotions, but what if he had lied? Just the fact that Vulcans denied having emotion proved they could and would. What if he knew, and was disgusted with him? What if just the emotions were enough for him to understand? Had he put too much emotion into it, and Spock realized how broken he was? Did he not want to work with such an emotional wreck?

"Mr. Spock." Jim coughed as his voice tried to break.

Spock inclined his head, as if to show he was listening, but neither turned nor answered. Jim balled his hands into fists, feeling his nails digging in ever so slightly.

"Report."

Spock paused a second, then quickly typed something. Jim frowned, but waited patiently. Everyone watched as Spock silently stood and approached the Captain chair. He handed over a PADD and promptly returned to his seat. Jim gaped at it a moment, staring. It was a science report.

Jim gritted his teeth. "Sorry. I'm just a dumb Captain, care to explain it to me?"

Everyone tensed, snapping around. Jim's tone was hot, challenging. Everyone held their breath, eyes darting between the two. This could not end well. Spock didn't turn around. His hands flew over his console and the PADD in Kirk's hand beeped. He glanced down and flushed with anger at the annotations that had been added to the report. The PADD creaked in his hand as he gripped it tight. The nails of his other hand, still fisted tight, punched through, not enough to bleed profusely, but enough.

"Tell me, Spock, how do you think you can do your job while giving me the cold shoulder?" Jim snapped and suddenly everyone knew all hell was going to break loose.

Spock spun his chair around, blinking at him in surprise, but said nothing. Uhura crossed her arms to keep from fidgeting. She said she wasn't going to interfere, even if they both had the best of intentions. Jim snarled, slamming the PADD down.

"That wasn't a rhetorical question!" Spock looked away, but didn't turn back around to his station. "Tell me the logic behind it."

Spock twitched, his blank mask slipping ever so slightly as he swiveled around in his chair. The sound of his typing was the only one being made, unnaturally loud in the very still bridge. The PADD beeped once, drawing the enraged attention of the captain. Jim jumped to his feet, throwing the PADD to the floor with a sweep of his hand, having never read the message. The thin, red lines of his nails were angry against his palms.

"Say it out loud!" Jim demanded.

"Ni'droi'ik nar-tor!" The words, asking forgiveness, probably weren't supposed to be snapped, but they were surprisingly close.

Kirk jolted, darting his eyes to Uhura. She was staring in shock. Spock was on his feet, eyes a mix of embarrassment and anger. He hadn't meant to say it in Vulcan. Honestly, he just snapped, frustrated that nothing he did seemed right. In the back of his mind, he could practically feel the anger and confusion and exhaustion racking his Captain. He was trying to make things better, not worse.

"Spock." Uhura finally interrupted. "Use standard when you speak to him!"

"Gishen worla ihk-banut! Ish-veh ni…komihn." Spock realized belatedly that he did not, in fact, do as she said.

She hissed, narrowing her eyes. If that's how he wanted it, she could speak Vulcan too. "Kling akhlami buhfik."

"Why do you defend him?" Spock snapped.

It was the wrong time to switch to standard. The sound of Jim's fist connecting with the wall was loud in the still eerily quiet room. He was standing rigidly, broken fist hanging at his right side. His eyes were a pale grey-blue, filled with anger.

"Get off of my bridge." The words were barely even, shaking with rage.

Spock froze, eyes flicking to him momentarily. "Captain-"

"Now!" His voice echoed through the room, causing most everyone to flinch.

"Jim!" Spock bit. "Allow me-"

"Leave my bridge or I will call security." Kirk rumbled. "I don't want to see you until we reach the Starbase tomorrow."

Spock nodded once and left the bridge a close, Vulcan controlled step below storming off. Uhura watched him go in shock. What was happening? It seemed like Spock had no control over his emotions. She glanced at Jim, who was now cradling his hand to his chest, looking for the world like he wanted nothing more than to chase after his First Officer and apologize.

He flexed his hand and immediately changed his mind. "Sulu, take the Conn. I need to head down to Sickbay and get my hand looked at."

"Yes Captain." Sulu took what was perhaps his first real breath since the argument had started.

Jim paused a moment, glancing at Uhura like he wanted to ask something. She looked expectantly at him, ready to explain as soon as he asked her to leave the bridge with him. He could see that, clearly, and left without a word. She watched him go with a look of trepidation. They were grown men. They could work it out on their own.

… .. .

"Jim?" McCoy looked up in surprise when said Captain stalked into the Sickbay.

He thrust his hand out, a furious look on his face. "Don't say a word. And don't give me any painkillers."

Bones frowned, looking the hand over. "What did you do?"

"I punched a wall."

"Why?" He ran a tricorder over it, nodding when it confirmed what he already knew.

"I was furious." Jim admitted.

"Jim…" Bones prompted.

"Okay, fine…Gah-Awd damn it!" Jim cawed yanking his now set hand away. "Damn it Bones!"

"You said no painkillers." He reminded, rescanning his hand to see if it was properly set.

"Me and Spock got into another argument."

"Point-eared goblin and I." Bones corrected without thinking, then scowled at the thought. "What happened?"

"He hadn't shown up for his shift. Then Uhura brought him up and he wouldn't say anything to me. I called him on it, and he went off on me in Vulcan." Jim said sheepishly. "Uhura had a short argument with him and…"

"And what Jim?" McCoy froze from where he was searching for a specific hypo.

"He…asked her why she was defending me…" Jim's voice dropped off, taking all of his bravado with it.

"And you punched a wall."

"And I told him I didn't want to see him until tomorrow."

"So the pain is some kind of punishment?" McCoy snorted finding the hypo he was looking for. "Here, this'll help your hand heal quickly."

Jim didn't even wince as he stabbed him. "No. It isn't it's just…I…I can use the pain, to reign in my temper a bit."

"You could use a lot of things." Bones pointed out tersely. "Be sure to come back later for another shot. The last thing we need is you waltzing around with a broken hand making things worse."

"Thank you." Jim looked up at him with big, watery blue eyes.

He sighed, squeezing his shoulder lightly. "You're welcome you troublesome bastard."

… .. .

The remainder of the shift was miserable. No one wanted to say anything. Jim sat steadily thumping his hand against his knee after finishing his lunch. The pain kept him from actually snapping at anyone. Uhura ticked idly at her frequencies, barely listening to the white noise. Sulu sat ridged in his seat, focused intently on his task when it required very little of his attention. Chekov worried his lip, chewing a bloody hole in it rather than speak, and wiping the drips of red on his sleeve.

"Cap'n?"

"Shit!" Jim tumbled from his chair. "Scotty! Don't sneak up on my like that."

"I've been sayin' ye name fer a minute now." He said pointedly.

"Oh…uh…sorry. Did you need something?" He righted himself, resettling in his seat.

"We've done all we can Cap'n. I've brough' all me men back from 'er ship."

"Oh. Alright. How are the others doing?"

"Security's left already. The wee nurses are all tha's left, keeping their eyes on the wounded."

"No one else has died?"

"No Cap'n." Scotty grinned.

"Thanks." Jim smiled. "Take some time off. You need the rest. And tell Giotto the same if you see him."

"Aye Cap'n. Get yur self some rest as well."

"Yeah. Yeah I think I will." Jim stood, stretching. "Our shift's over anyway."

Jim stalked off, headed down to Bones and the promise of a hypo. Not that he was particularly thrilled about the hypo, but all the same, he wanted off the bridge. When did his own ship become so stifling? In Sickbay, he found his eyes shifting to Natima's room. He hadn't spoken to her in a day. Not since his argument with Spock in the turbo lift.

Had she heard they were separated now? He should probably talk to her. Tell her they would reach the base tomorrow.

McCoy stabbed him violently with a hypo, earning a surprised yelp.

"Bones! What was that for?"

"I saw you staring off towards that Cardassian's room." He said accusingly. "That's a bad idea and you know it."

"You don't drug people for bad ideas!" Jim protested, rubbing his neck.

"You were here for it anyway." McCoy huffed, then ran his eyes over him. "Oh for love of Pete. Fine. Do something reckless. At least use protection or I won't be giving you the shots to get rid of anything she has."

"Your medical report said she didn't have anything." Jim pointed out, then quickly added to it. "And I'm not going to take advantage of an injured person."

"Injured! Hah! She's only staying on this ship because she has easier access to you here." McCoy sniffed indignantly. "And if you aren't safe I won't give her anything to deal with your mess either. I bet my little girl would love a cousin."

Jim grimaced, shaking just a little. "I…I'm not that stupid."

"No, but you are that self-destructive." Bones said sympathetically. "You get these waves of recklessness, and you know it. I can't stop you, but I can warn you that this is anything but helping."

"Oh come on, Bones." Jim offered a weak smile that told exactly how little he was enjoying his current line of thought. "I'm not looking for love. I just want physical gratification."

"Jim…" McCoy sighed turning to go to his office. "I won't watch you do this to yourself. I know I can't stop you, so just wait. I'll be out of Sickbay in three minutes and then I can pretend you left right after and didn't do this."

"I won't do anything tonight." Jim lied, already headed for her room.

McCoy pitched the hypo at a wall when he heard the door shut, listening to the glass shatter.

… .. .

When Spock opened the door to his room, the air coming from it was decidedly cleaner than before. Uhura no longer felt like she were in a funeral chamber, mourning the loss of someone receiving the last words of their God. The incense burners were nowhere in sight when she entered, and she was grateful for that. Jim's cot had been removed.

"I hate to say it, but it needs said. I told you so." Uhura crossed her arms in front of her chest, refusing the seat he offered.

"I…have not handled his emotions well." Spock confided. "I find it difficult."

"I hardly recognize you anymore." Uhura whispered, avoiding eye contact. "I…I wasn't prepared for what loosing your planet would do to you. I haven't been a very good friend."

Spock tensed. It seemed that was all he did nowadays. "You have been an essential component in my life, Nyota. I fear far worse would have happened were you not here for me."

"I'm jealous." She admitted, finally meeting his eyes. "I loved how cool, and calm, and smart you were as my professor. I respected the man you were in charge of the ship. I loved how strong you were, emotionally, in the face of everything. But I wanted to be the one person who saw your emotions. I wanted to be the only person who saw inside of your mind."

"Nyota…"

She raised her hand to stop him. "This isn't just about me. This is about Kirk."

"Being near him…" Spock closed his eyes, thinking a moment. "It is like mok farr."

Uhura furrowed her brow at the new words. "What is mok farr?"

"It is a training ritual." Spock sighed, an honest thing that he was only willing to show Uhura. "One is required to mind meld with an animal to experience raw emotion. It serves as a reminder of why emotions must be mastered."

"Oh!" She gasped, covering her mouth in surprise. "Oh he can't be that bad."

"He is."

She would have laughed at the blunt declaration if it weren't so serious. She'd have laughed at the thought that the Captain was simply a wild animal, acting on his baser nature, but the frightening truth wasn't funny at all. Instead, she gave him a twisted smile. She patted his knee gently, and leaned in to kiss his cheek. He said nothing as she turned to go.

"I'm here if you need me, Spock." She didn't glance back at him, didn't drop her head towards the ground, didn't show how weak she was feeling. "Live long and prosper."

"Live long and prosper." He whispered.

Uhura made for the door way, and froze again, this time looking back, ever so slightly. "What's it like? Melding with him?"

Spock took a deep breath, steadying himself for something he was not entirely sure he was ready to admit. "He is most dynamic. It is…confusing. A paradox of light and dark, coexisting in the same place and time. It is pure emotion…and an emptiness that rivals space itself."

She shivered, looking away. "Why do you think he is like that?"

"I do not know." Spock answered.

She recognized the dismissal in his tone and left. Spock retrieved a stick of incense from his desk and twirled it in his fingers. He would not meditate now. He had meditated most of the day. His barriers were sufficient. Placing the stick back on his desk, he readied himself for bed.

"I do not know." He said again, to the darkness. "But I will learn."

… … .. . .. … …

**Dear God there's a lot of Vulcan in there…Most from the movies…**

_**Kal Rekk**_**- A Vulcan holiday, pretty much explained**

_**Ni'droi'ik nar-tor**_**- I'm sorry.**

_**Gishen worla ihk-banut**_**- He's never what I expect.**

_**Ish-veh ni komihn**_**- He is so human.**

_**Kling akhlami buhfik**_**- Nobody's perfect.**

_**Mok Farr**_**-do I really have to explain it again?**

**The reason I didn't translate most of it in text was to kind of convey the same feeling Kirk was having. He didn't know what they were saying and…misinterpreted it.**


	10. Chapter 10

…**Not owning**

… … .. . .. … …

Jim grimaced, rubbing his head for what felt like the hundredth time that minute. God damn migraines. God damn guilt induced migraines. After his ill advised tryst with Natima, he had slunk back to his quarters and spent three hours vomiting out of sheer revulsion.

Not at her. She was beautiful, and wonderful.

He was disgusted with himself. McCoy took one look at him when he skulked back into Sickbay in the morning, looking like hell warmed over according to the irate Doctor. To his credit, McCoy didn't say I told you so. Jim probably wouldn't have been able to handle that southern lilt telling him what he already knew. He dragged him in, promising eggs and a small glass of Saurian brandy. He did have work in an hour.

Jim didn't stumble onto the bridge, though he had convinced Bones to let him have more than he needed of the liquid devil. There was the slightest buzz under his skin, how he usually felt on a good day. It disgusted him that he needed to fake that sensation with alcohol.

"Captain." Sulu called out, spinning around to look at him. "We're approaching the Starbase now."

"Very good. Bring us in Mr. Sulu." Jim hesitated, then pressed a few buttons.

"Captain?" Spock's voice filtered onto the bridge, utterly professional.

"We'll be docking shortly, please come to the bridge." Jim actually felt pretty good, enough that his tone held hints of chipperness.

There was a moment of pause, whether it was at his tone or his words, Jim neither knew nor cared. "Affirmative Captain."

Jim cut the connection and hummed to himself. It wasn't a happy sound, but it was satisfied. Yeah. This wasn't so bad. Clearly he just needed to get laid more often. Once he got back into the swing of it, he'd stop making himself sick over it.

"Captain." Uhura's voice cut through his musings, tone slightly less disapproving than usual. "Commodore Stone is requesting we dock the Cardassian vessel in dock three."

"I can do zat!" Chekov announced quickly, already taking over the necessary controls.

"Alright Mr. Chekov. I'll leave it to you." Jim grinned.

"Captain." Spock's voice broke through any remaining static, announcing his presence on the bridge.

Jim stood neatly, acknowledging him with a nod. "Alright crew, you know your jobs. Once we're properly docked I want you to oversee getting everyone off. Yes, that means McCoy too. Lieutenant Uhura, have Mr. Scott direct the engineers to anything he especially thinks need their attention. Once your duties are attended to, you're free to do what you want on the Starbase, short of the usual restrictions."

"Yes Captain." "Yes Keptin." They chorused and he beamed at Spock.

"With me Mr. Spock?" Jim slapped his shoulder, already headed to the turbo lift.

Spock turned to follow immediately, regarding Jim with an unnoticeable scrutiny. Jim was back to his seemingly usual behavior, no longer cagy and defensive. His smile was bright and he bounced forward with each step, rocking with the full motion of his foot. It was as though the week following their leave from Ke'ruvi had not happened at all. Indeed, the entire air around Jim was at ease, that seemingly pervasive happiness seeping into his surrounding. His confidence was brimming at their usual, dangerously high levels.

The turbo lift doors slid shut. "I presume you are well, Captain?"

Jim laughed. "Yeah. I'm good. How are you?"

"I am well." It was professional, comfortable.

So why was Spock not at ease?

"Good." Jim chirped. "I'm sorry for going off on you yesterday."

Spock blinked, rapidly. "Your apology is unnecessary. To the contrary, Jim, I was at fault. I wish to express my sincerest regrets at my actions in the past week."

"Don't worry about it." Jim said quickly, but the please little smile was what told him all was forgiven.

"Vulcans do not worry, Captain."

Jim burst out laughing, and sprang from the turbo lift. Spock was almost at ease, content that his Captain's mood had been a consequence of stress. The week had been difficult for both of them. He felt his first touch of doubt at that thought. Was he really the source of Jim's emotional imbalance? And he had proven himself more than capable of maintaining a passable appearance of feigned exuberance. Spock was rather suddenly sure that Jim was anxious, uncomfortable even, somewhat more happy, yes, but still disquieted. He could practically feel the dark emotions pressing at the back of his mind. He shut it away quickly, telling himself it was illogical to partake of such unnecessary and inaccurate reflections as he had no basis for them.

"Bones!" Jim rushed in and caught the man's biceps in his hands. "How is everything?"

"Get off me." He growled dismissively, shrugging himself free. "Everything is as good as can be expected. We've got everything of ours, equipment and people, back from their ship. Only thing we don't have in its proper place is her."

Jim and Spock both followed the motion of the jerk of his thumb to see Captain Tain being scanned by Chapel one last time. She beamed at the pair, or rather, at Jim. He trotted over and took her offered hands.

"Good morning!"

"I suppose it is." She smiled.

"Please, allow me to escort you onto our lovely Starbase. You'll have to meet with Commodore Stone before they put you back in another Sickbay." He helped her stand, retrieving his hands and offering his arm.

She placed her hands on it gracefully. "Ah, yes. Truth be told, I prefer the politics to the medicine."

"It's better if you have a little sugar to help it down." Jim grinned and they shared a conspiratorial laugh.

Spock didn't tense, nor did he feel an entirely irrational urge to yank the woman from his Captain. Vulcans did not feel when properly suppressing their emotions, as he was doing. And an argument could be made that any such hypothetical emotion was not irrational. He did, however, shift to stand with his hands behind his back and turn for the door. Jim glanced up at the sound of it opening, and was met with one superiorly raised eyebrow.

He rolled his eyes and lead her into the hall way. Spock was walking ahead of them, not that either seemed to care.

"Alright." Jim sighed dramatically. "I'm going to have to introduce you and you First Officer to Commodore Stone, and I'm afraid I'll be pretty busy after that."

"My second in command is joining us?"

"Shortly, once we're on the base."

She sighed. "I suppose I should be acting more captainly then, shouldn't I Jim?"

Spock had the sudden, illogical urge to _never_ call him Jim again. He squashed it quickly and slowed his pace as Rand approached.

"You've got time, Natima." Jim murmured at her, coming to a stop behind Spock.

"Captain. Commander…uh…Captain Tain." Rand nodded politely to them, furrowing her brow a bit. "Commander, if I could have a word with you before you continue?"

Spock nodded once and led her a short distance away, keeping the pair of Captains firmly in sight, and ear shot. Rand glanced over her shoulder at them, narrowing her eyes in distaste. They were currently watching them with feigned interest, saying nothing.

"Yeoman?" Spock spoke quietly, but drew her attention back.

"Ah, yes." She glanced back furtively one last time before looking at him. "Captain Kirk charged me with the safe keeping of our…documents."

Spock took note of her reluctance to properly identify the treaty as such, no doubt due to the presence of the Cardassian Captain, and prompted her to continue, as he often found necessary. "I see."

"I know it's technically his and your job to deliver them to the Commodore…but in light of this new problem." She glanced meaningfully at Natima. "Perhaps I should?"

"That will be unnecessary. I will discuss with the Commodore a more appropriate time to deliver the…documents." He watched her smile as he humored her. "You may deliver them to the Captain's or my rooms tonight."

She blushed lightly, but managed to maintain a perfectly professional look on her face. "Yes Sir."

She hurried off to handle more of her required duties, and Spock returned to the Captains, who had been watching silently the whole time. Jim smirked as he approached, an ill-boding sign for sure.

"I apologize for keeping you waiting." Spock inclined his head, tone and expression flat.

"No problem." Jim's smirk developed into a full blown grinned. "I didn't think Rand was the bold type."

"Sir?" Spock lifted an eyebrow.

"Of course, I shouldn't be surprised. Well, maybe a little. Tell me, Natima, do women on your planet have some code of honor that makes it inappropriate to flirt with someone who a female friend of yours is interested in?" Jim turned to her immediately.

"No." She smiled. "Nor do men, as far as I am aware, have a similar code. Is it such on your planet?"

"Sometimes."

Spock was not annoyed. It was illogical to be annoyed, more so at Jim, who no amount of disapproval would entice to change his behavior. Things certainly had returned to their equilibrium state.

"Yeoman Rand approached me in a professional context to inquire about her duties." Spock said, lips twitching in and out of the slightest smirk. "It seems she did not feel you would be capable of providing a sufficient answer. As your First Officer, I am more than willing to tend to the concerns of the crew, especially providing they feel they can not seek your aid in their problems."

Jim's jaw, which had slipped open at the little smirk, snapped shut with a click. The words incompetent, too friendly, unprofessional, and others from their discussion the other day filtered rapidly through his mind. He gritted his teeth, embarrassed to have been admonished in front of the other Captain. She was looking between them in surprise, as Spock was walking a close line between insubordination.

"You seem to forget I'm more than an over glorified Science Officer." Jim hissed a little. "If that ever happens again you direct her to me."

Spock looked sideways, and held Natima's gaze. "Perhaps just an 'over glorified' Engineering Officer? I will examine the situation next time and see if it would be prudent to…interrupt you."

Jim flushed, incapable of admonishing the first half of the statement without opening the floor to the second. "We don't want to keep Commodore Stone waiting."

Natima followed quietly, entirely aware of the meaning behind the look she received. Were it not for Jim, she would have been furious. As it was, she understood very well why he let the subject drop, as the topic would prove harming for her. Strategically, it was honorable for him to take the little loss to defend her. Stupid, but honorable. She found herself wondering if it belied deeper intent.

When they were about to detangle themselves and head down to the Starbase, she leaned up quickly to whisper in Jim's ear.

"It seems it would be for the best if we keep our physical relationship between us for now." Her breath ghosted across his ear.

He leaned to the side, whispering back. "That probably would be best."

When he turned forward again, his eyes locked on Spock's shoulders. They were taut, his spine impeccably straight. Jim's eyes flicked down, and he was surprised to find Spock's hands fisted as they sat in the small of his back. It was a powerful display for the normally cool man. His eyes flicked back up, and his blood ran cold as his eyes settled on Spock's pointed ears. Vulcan's had amazing hearing.

"Captain Kirk." Dear god that was like a bucked of liquid nitrogen, and Natima had no clue. "We should proceed now."

"Yes." Kirk said firmly, pulling his arm free and leading them down.

Her second in command was waiting for them already. He was quick to attention and she waved him down. His eyes landed on Kirk and he looked him over quickly. Turning his attentions to Spock, he seemed much more interested. Spock offered a quick Vulcan salute in greeting. The man's eyes widened a bit, and he took a anticipatory step closer.

"Captain." His voice was gravely, still a little horse from the damage, and deep. "It is good to see you well. It is also a pleasure to meet you, Captain Kirk…Commander Spock."

Jim shuddered at the tone the man took with Spock's name. It was hot, searing his ears. Or perhaps that was the blood rushing to them at the recognition of just what those two words implied.

"I am afraid I have not been told your name." Spock replied politely, seemingly oblivious.

"Damar Garak" He murmured enthusiastically. "I am a xenobiologist. Please excuse my staring, I've never met a Vulcan before."

"That is not surprising, give the relations between our planets." Spock agreed.

"Perhaps…" The man hesitated, glancing at his Captain to see if he could continue. "You would not be adverse to teaching me about Vulcans?"

"Time permitting, I may be capable of doing so. What is it you wish to learn?"

"I am most interested in anatomy, of course." Garak hadn't actually leered, or made any move more suggestive than professional interest.

"Affirmative." Spock inclined his head.

Jim felt a burning stab of anger. "We shouldn't keep the Commodore waiting."

All three of them glanced at him in surprise, noting the boiling silver look to his eyes. He didn't actually know why he had to fight the urge to rip the man's throat out, as he shouldn't have had that urge at all. Disregarding the unusual flare of anger, he stormed out into the main area, and was immediately caught in the blinding light of a camera flash. Spock interceded, plucking the camera from the human man and crushing it.

"Hey!" The photographer screeched as his broken camera was deposited back in his hands. "You can't do that!"

"You do not have clearance for this section of the Starbase. Nor are cameras permitted here. Who do you work for?" Spock clasped his hands at his back, watching him closely.

"I'm a freelance photographer!" The man hissed. "And I have every right to be here. The people have a right to know what's happening."

"Paparazzi." Jim hissed in distaste, all too used to cameramen.

"What is your name?"

"None of your business."

Spock grabbed the man's forearm, twisting him around and forcing him to kneel. "If you will not supply your name then you will be detained until security personnel arrive to arrest you."

"Fucking Vulcans!" The man hissed, struggling in the futile hope of freeing himself.

If Spock's grip tightened minutely, no one but he and his detainee noticed. Commodore Stone rounded the corner at that moment, and drew up short, blinking in surprise. Jim waved politely to him, and then noticed that Natima and Garak had not followed him out in light of the camera flash.

"What is going on here?" Stone demanded to know, staring at Spock.

"This man had an unauthorized camera and was snapping photos of me and my crew." Jim answered quickly, jumping to something similar to attention. "He refused to provide his name."

Stone sighed, gesturing for one of the security officers with him to take the man. Spock released him, and the man swung at him. Side stepping the hit, Spock completely ignored the attack, allowing security to detain him once again. Once the man was out of sight, Natima stepped into view.

"Impressive fighting skills, Mr. Spock." Spock was finding it hard not to take offense to every word from her mouth, even if it was a compliment.

"You are Captain Tain?" Stone looked her and her officer over quickly, checking for a threat.

"I am. You are Commodore Stone?"

"I though I was supposed to do the introductions." Jim said with a grin, earning a small laugh from the Commodore.

"I'll deal with you later." Stone chided, almost playfully. "O-eight hundred hours. I'm sure you can find my office?"

"Of course Commodore." Jim grinned. "You have my reports?"

"Yes. Run along now. I won't keep you from your further duties."

"Thank you sir." Jim nodded politely and turned to go.

"Oh, Kirk." Stone hesitated a moment, then offered a smile. "Admiral Yaramoto informs me there is someone aboard the Starbase you may be interested in meeting."

"Oh?" Kirk frowned, glancing at Spock to see if he knew who the Commodore could be referring to.

"If you head to the security offices, you may just be able to find him. I'm not mistaken in assuming you are interested in meeting with Ensign David Garrovick, am I?"

Jim's face lit up, his eyes widening. "David's here?"

Stone laughed at the childish, excited tone. "He is. He's been incessant about asking after you since he heard you would be coming."

"I've got to go find him!" Jim bolted off, only to immediately peek his head back around the corner. "Thank you Commodore! Bye Natima…Garak. Spock, are you coming?"

Spock inclined his head in interest. With a polite nod as he took his leave, he followed after Jim, who caught his wrist as soon as he was close and started running. Spock trailed behind him, keeping pace in silence. The childlike exuberance his Captain held was almost enough to distract him from the anger he held earlier. Almost. Now was not the time to confront him on the matter though. He was not sure there was a time to confront him.

Jim proved surprisingly competent at navigating the Starbase. Few people were currently about to witness their mad dash through the halls, and fewer still paid them heed. People running around like crazy weren't that surprising. As they moved quickly, people could also not tell who they were. They may have expressed more shock or interest if they realized they had nearly been crashed into by the Captain of the Enterprise and a Vulcan.

As they skidded to a stop outside of the main security room, Spock retrieved his arm, fixing Jim with a disapproving look. Jim grinned sheepishly, offering no explanation for his overly excited behavior. Spock simply rolled his wrist to ease the phantom sensation of the tight grip lingering there. Jim pounded on the door, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he did.

The door slid open and a young Andorian blinked at him in surprise. "Can I help you?"

"Is David here? Er…Ensign Garrovick?" Jim tried to peer around the man, rather unsuccessfully.

The man never took his eyes off Jim, but angled his head back a bit to yell over his shoulder. "Garrovick! There's someone here looking for you."

"Yeah?" A young male voice filtered from inside and footsteps could be hear approaching.

The Andorian wiggled his antenna as Jim's grin widened. He stepped to the side and allowed a tall, human male in his late teens or early twenties with dark brown hair to step into view. The man's eyes widened when they settled on Kirk.

"Jim!" He flung himself forward, wrapping Jim up in a tight hug. "Oh my God! I though I would never see you again!"

Jim laughed, returning the hug with equal gumption. "What? Just what did you expect? That I'd get myself killed!"

David grinned, leaning back to look Jim in the eyes. "I didn't think an important Captain like you would have time for me."

"I've always got time for you." Jim rebuked, still smiling.

"You gonna introduce us all to your boyfriend there?" A tall woman came to lean in the door, shaking her head.

"He's not my boyfriend!" David yelped, flushing. "He's like a brother!"

Jim laughed, dragging the younger man down for a noogie. "That's right I am. And don't you forget that."

"Captain." Spock caught everyone's attention with that one word. "Was there any purpose in my joining you in this endeavor?"

"Oh!" Jim jumped, releasing the ensign. "Yeah! I wanted to you to meet David. David, this is Spock, my science officer and second in command. Spock, this is David, he's like a little brother to me."

"Fascinating." Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Whoa." David whispered, looking Spock over. "That's so cool. Why do you get the best of everything Jim?"

"The best?" Spock inclined his head to the side, expressing confusion over the statement.

"Well yeah." The Andorian cut in. "As far as Science Officers go, you _can't_ do better than a Vulcan. And you've got loyalty, logic, honesty, and strength going for you in the First Officer department."

"And one hell of a figure." The woman added, earning a sharp groan from most of the men present.

Spock raise one eyebrow, expressing doubt about the validity of their statements. Jim rolled his eyes, and slapped his hand on Spock's shoulder, earning a little gasp of surprise from the three gathered there. Spock took a slightly deeper breath than usual, regarding his Captain's need for affirmation through touch with his usual silent displeasure.

"Holy shit." David gaped. "I though you weren't…you know."

He gestured vaguely to Jim's hand. Kirk glanced at it and frowned immediately, puling it back.

"What?"

"You just…you have no clue!" The three fell about themselves laughing, causing Jim further confusion.

"I have found in necessary to disregard a great number of physical interactions due to the tactile nature of the crew." Spock clarified, more for Jim's sake than theirs.

Jim flushed, slapping his forehead. "You have to remind me when I do that! I'm never going to learn if you just ignore it."

"Humans evolved as tactile beings. While it is true Vulcans did not, I have acclimated myself to human behavior. Your need for physical interaction is greater than my displeasure." Spock shifted in place, obviously, to Jim, very uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.

Jim gaped, along with the three security officers. "Is…is _that_ why you haven't been yelling at me, even though we haven't been getting along? Because you think I need a hug?"

"My observations have proven that you tend to become highly agitated when suffering from prolonged solitude."

Jim fought down a laugh. "What observations? Don't tell me you've been watching me hang out with Bones!"

Spock felt a touch of apprehension at his next statement, but would not lie about this. "My most recent observations have come from your interactions with Natima."

Jim straightened, jaw clenching. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Her companionship seems to have put you in a better mood, Captain."

Jim took a deep, unsteady breath. "That's none of your business."

"Ensuring that my Captain is capable of performing his duties and is not emotionally compromised is, in fact, my 'business' as First Officer."

Jim's laugh was bitter, causing the three next to him to flinch away. "I'm pretty damn sure you can't give me the kind of companionship she did."

"So you did engage in coitus with her." Spock raised both his eyebrows, a disapproving gesture.

"That is none of your god damn business." Jim snarled, then froze. "Shit. Wait. This isn't going right."

"Captain?"

Jim caught his elbow with one hand, the other cradling his face. "Why is it every time we start to get along we end up fighting?"

"Because you're a confrontational bastard?" David offered, smirking.

"Shut up you." Jim snapped with a smile.

"I apologize for my presumptuous actions, Captain." Spock was once again perfectly neutral, hands at his back. "I will endeavor to correct your behavior from now on."

Jim groaned. "Great. That's…wonderful."

David chucked. "So…how is that whole Captain thing going?"

"Good." Jim smiled. "How's your mom?"

David flinched, earning the pained glances of his peers. "She's…ah, taking it hard. It's been a couple months, but all she does is cry."

It was then that the last name caught in Spock's memory. David Garrovick, son of Thomas Garrovick, Captain of the Farragut. The Farragut which was destroyed, along with her crew, by Nero. Gaila was on the Farragut as well. Uhura almost was. He did not know Jim's connection to the late Captain Garrovick and his son, but he understood the pain the young man felt.

"I'm sorry." Jim murmured. "I wish I could have done something more."

"Don't." David hissed softly. "If my dad taught you anything, it should be that you are grateful for the lives you did save. There's always more you can loose."

"I know." Jim insisted, bowing his head.

Spock watched with a look of uncertainty in his eyes. He had grown somewhat more accustom to human gestures, and it would not be considered inappropriate to offer a hand on his back in support. He should not touch him though, especially so soon after their volatile discussion. More over, he did not know the source of his Captain's pain. It seemed the young Ensign had more reason to be upset, and yet the man's words had drawn some hurt from Jim. Perplexing.

David placed a hand on Jim's shoulder, squeezing gently. "Don't you have work to do, Captain?"

Jim beamed up at him, blue eyes dancing. "Yeah, okay. You too Ensign."

With one last hug, they stepped back and turned to part ways. Ensign Garrovick glanced back at them, offering a warm smile.

"I was a pleasure meeting you Commander Spock."

Spock offered a traditional salute to the young man. "Live long and prosper, Ensign Garrovick."

… .. .

"We've got the tactical course for tomorrow right after lunch." Sulu announced as soon as the two joined the bridge crew for lunch. "Can you two make it?"

"Yeah, we can make it." Jim said cheerfully.

"Why are you in such a good mood?" Bones snapped.

"David 's a security officer on the base."

Bones sputtered out his coffee, catching most of it on his napkin. "David! That little brat that graduated last year?"

"Yeah. Isn't it great?" Jim grinned around his bacon sandwich, ignoring the eye rolls from his once again excluded crew.

"I'm not visiting him." McCoy announced firmly.

"That's okay." Jim waved at him dismissively. "Me and Spock already visited him."

McCoy bit his tongue to stop the correction he was about to say, as said green blooded goblin was seated at the table as well. "Why the hell did you bring him along?"

"Because he was there."

"The Captain expressed interest in our meeting." Spock corrected.

"Oh whatever." Jim said crossly.

"It is wery nice to be off ship, yes?" Chekov grinned. "Space iz vonderful, but no room to stretch and play the gamez."

"Yeah." Jim agreed wistfully. "A little break is nice every now and then."

… … .. . .. … …

**I will explain who this David is and why he gets along so well with Kirk. You may notice I'm not a fan of making up characters, just repurposing them. Try not to let it bother you.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Don't own.**

… … .. . .. … …

"Urg." Jim leaned back from the desk in his room.

After far too much paperwork, he was ready to forget about everything Captain related. His room was fairly dull though. Looking over it again, his eyes came to land on the extra door. He couldn't believe they gave him and Spock connected rooms.

Sure, he was used to sharing a bathroom with the guy, but this was embarrassing. They didn't need to be that close to each other. In fact, he had put up quite a fuss about it, insisting that putting them that close together made them an easy target for assassination attempts. He was, unsurprisingly, ignored. Which meant Spock was on the other side of that door. Which meant, theoretically, he could just go over there, knock on the door, and see him. Whenever he wanted.

He promised himself that it wouldn't be opened at all during their stay.

Jim stepped out into the hall, nodding to a few of the people heading in and out of their rooms in the area. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on Spock's door. It occurred to him that Spock always did the same thing on the ship, going around rather than through their bathroom. Walking through a shared door was too intimate. Great, now he was going to be blushing when Spock opened the door.

The soft woosh brought his attention back, as Spock was watching him curiously. "Captain?"

"Uh…want to go to the rec. room?" He felt his cheeks heating up.

Spock inclined his head. "I would not be adverse to the idea."

The rec. room was more busy than the rest of the ship. People leaned on tables, played computer games and consoles, and participated in various physical sports in side rooms. Jim bound off towards the chess tables, Spock once again in tow.

"Captain." Spock said tensely. "Please release me."

"Sorry." Jim snatched his hand back, already at the tables.

A few people had looked up at their passing, interested. Slowly, people were turning to regard them. Jim plopped down into a seat and pulled the pieces out from their compartment. Spock sat stiffly across from him, raising an eyebrow.

"I was unaware you played chess."

"Well, I'm not great at it." Jim admitted. "But I can hold my own. Why? Don't you like it?"

"It is an acceptable test of skill."

Looking at the chess board, he had a nagging suspicion that Jim underestimated his abilities. One did not jump on three dimensional chess with the enthusiasm of James Kirk if they had little to no skill. Jim palmed a white pawn and a black pawn, shuffling them about his hands with exaggerated, ridiculous motions. He then extended both hands, closed, towards Spock.

"Black or white?" Jim grinned, insanely pleased with himself.

"Black." Spock said politely, placing his hand palm up under Jim's right hand.

Jim huffed, allowing the black pawn to fall into Spock's hand and began setting up the board. People were starting to gather now, not bothering to hide their intent, but not particularly close to the board. They weren't so much interested in the game as in the players. Jim guessed they thought he wouldn't last two moves against a Vulcan.

"Don't go easy on me." Jim teased.

"I had no intention of doing so." Spock informed him.

Jim started with a lazy, smooth move and Spock stiffly replied. Soon they were moving pieces swiftly across the board. Jim made prompt, crazy moves and Spock answered with textbook perfection. People were pushing closer and, Jim realized dimly, there were quite a few more people in the room than before.

He found, to no real surprise, that he was enjoying himself. There styles contrasted perfectly, the pieces a visual and symbolic representation of themselves dancing across the board. Each stolen piece a step closer to solving the puzzle, each player defending and attacking in a strange dichotomy. Neither willing to sacrifice much, but doing so if they must for the gains it would provide.

Jim shook his head a little, deciding he needed to cut back on the philosophical literature.

"Check." Spock declared softly, drawing his attention to the poor placement of a couple of his pieces.

Jim grinned, throwing a piece out to be taken, and to remove his king from danger. "Better?"

"Fatal." Spock corrected, and moved another piece to trap Jim's king. "Checkmate."

Jim started laughing, knocking his king over lightly. "You got me. Great game."

"You are more proficient than you admit." Spock accused gently, the colors in his eyes swirling pleasantly with amusement.

Jim beamed, leaning back in his chair, his own eyes electric. "Really? I've never won once."

Spock raised an eyebrow, regarding him much as he had the game moments ago. "Fascinating."

"Don't feel bad." A mysterious ensign in blue clapped a hand on Jim's shoulder. "That was amazing."

Jim laughed. "Yeah? I guess it must be so if everyone keeps telling me that."

Another grinned, regarding the board with a wave of his hand. "You could probably beat me with skills like that."

Jim shrugged, putting the pieces away. "Maybe. Like I said, I've never won."

"Would you play me?" The first ensign asked, a hopeful look on his face.

Jim shook his head. "Sorry. I'm all logic-ed out…You could try asking Spock though."

Jim cast a look across the board at Spock, who remained just as still as ever, watching the exchange silently. Ruefully, he noticed that people gave the Commander a much larger space than him. No one had reached out to clap him on the shoulder, fortunately.

"I…uh…I wouldn't be a good game. Sorry." The man flushed and scurried back into the crowed.

Jim stood with a stretch, nearly knocking a few people gather round him. He offered a quick apology that no one seemed to notice, crowding him immediately as soon as he lowered his hands. He felt a small hand on his lower back and whipped his head around to see a small woman in science blue peering up at him from her spectacles. She was pretty with brown hair and…hey, was everyone in there wearing blue?

Jim glanced around in surprise, noticing only a few red shirts and almost no gold. Apparently their game had attracted the attention of the science personnel.

"Captain." Spock caught his attention easily. "Are we finished?"

"Oh, yeah." Jim grinned. "Want to grab dinner?"

Spock, paused, inclining his head as he considered it, then nodded once in agreement. People parted for him, scrambling to not touch the Vulcan. They crowded back in almost immediately, pressing up against Jim as if it made up for not being able to touch Spock. People poured out of the rec. room after them, heading back to where they belonged. The halls had quite a few more people in them now, as it was dinner time.

All the same, Jim wasn't surprised to find none of his crew was in the commissary. He made a face at the salad Spock ordered, sticking his tongue out as he ordered a chicken sandwich. Seated in a far corner, away from most of the prying eyes, Jim relaxed. Spock, Jim noticed, allowed his shoulders to lower a bit, practically slouching for a Vulcan.

"So…are you still mad at me?"

Spock lifted one eyebrow, sitting up straighter. "Anger is an unnecessary emotion."

"Spock." Jim's tone was pleading. "Don't do this to me right now."

Spock raised both eyebrows a bit. "Captain-"

"Okay, yeah. You're mad." Jim sighed, resting his elbows on the table and placing his head in his hands. "Mphmrry."

"I do not understand you." Spock admitted.

"Mphmo. Mphee mur-"

"Captain." Spock interrupted. "You are mumbling. I do not understand you because your words are muffled."

"Oh." Jim looked up, blushing. "I…I was saying I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for." Spock insisted, raising his eyebrow as if to ask if he were stupid. "You have done nothing harmful to me, nor have you in anyway done such to the crew or my family."

Jim froze. Spock said crew first. Was that because they were more important? No. It couldn't be. It must have been because it was alphabetical that way. Why was he over thinking and analyzing everything Spock said?

"I'm sorry I made you upset."

"You have done nothing to anger me."

"So sleeping with Natima was alright?" Jim asked challengingly.

Spock's jaw clenched, and he closed his eyes. "It is irrational for me to be upset by your actions."

"But you are." Jim prompted.

"I had illogically presumed that your previous, promiscuous behavior and irresponsible nature would no longer be the case in light of your new position in Captaincy." Spock opened his eyes, and flashed Jim with crisp brown hurt.

Jim felt something he hadn't in a long time: his eyes started to water. Truly, honestly brimming with tears. Spock's image swam in front of him, and he dug his nails into his palm, attempting to control the reaction. He had disappointed him. He got into a one night stand because he was stressed and upset and had damaged any chance he had of ever earning the respect of his First Officer. Jim stood quickly, clearing his tray.

"Captain?" Spock asked after him so innocently.

Jim offered him a weak smile. "I lost my appetite."

Spock watched his captain leave, feeling the most singular sensation of a clenching around his heart. His honesty had angered Jim. That was why he wanted to avoid the subject. He had hurt him, again. Perhaps he should seek advice. It seemed Jim was correct, every time they made progress towards a more than professional relationship, they became enraged with each other. It seemed they were not compatible.

… .. .

"Good God, man!" McCoy shouted at whoever was pounding incessantly on his door.

The sight before him nearly knocked him back. Jim was staring out at him, blue eyes glistening and rimmed with red. He stepped sideways and Jim hurried into the room. Jim choked out a little sob, sinking onto Bones' bed. Bones sat down next to him slowly, grimacing a bit.

"What have you done now?"

"I've fucked up." He hiccupped.

McCoy furrowed his brow, trying to remember if there was something obvious. His brown eyes widened when it finally sank in. Natima. Gently, he wrapped an arm around Jim's shoulders.

"Why don't you tell me about it?"

"Oh God." Jim laughed awkwardly. "I'm so stupid. I'm crying over _him_. The first time I've cried in years, over _him_."

Now Bones did tense, irrational anger and fear chilling his blood. "Who?"

"Spock. Bones, I'm crying over _Spock_." Jim hung his head in defeat. "I fucked up so bad."

"No." Bones insisted, pulling him against his chest and soothing his hair down gently. "No. Jim. You didn't fuck anything up. If that cold-blooded hobgoblin can't respect you for who you are that's his problem."

"He was disappointed." Jim sniffed. "I wanted to impress him. If I could do that, I could handle anyone, but I've just fucked everything up. Maybe I'm really not cut out for this."

"Jim!" He snapped, slapping him over the head. "What the hell is this from you? I thought you didn't believe in no-win situations."

"It wasn't a no-win situation, I just lost it."

"And tell me, how did you figure that out?"

"We were talking over dinner and he _told_ me he was disappointed in me." Jim pulled back, red eyes narrowed.

"Oh, so he agreed to have dinner with you first. Jim you idiot." McCoy rolled his eyes. "He's a Vulcan."

Jim frowned, wiping at his eyes and nose. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"He wouldn't have subjected himself to you at all if he didn't like you."

"He doesn't like anybody…except Uhura." Jim's face lit up a bit. "Hey. Maybe I can ask her for advice. I mean, she's still in love with him, so maybe she'll want us to be friends."

"Jim." Bones said warningly. "Jim, don't get ahead of yourself. You need to be careful."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Oh come on. I'm totally cured Bones. You're proof enough of that."

"It isn't that simple Jim." McCoy sighed. "You'll be the death of me."

"I'll be careful. I won't get in over my head. I promise." He had brightened up, previous moment of weakness forgotten.

McCoy watched Jim leave with a little sigh. "If only I believed that."

… .. .

"…"

"…"

"…Um…Okay, I'll bite." Sulu stared up from the flower he was currently poured over.

The botany labs were quiet and well stocked aboard the Starbase. Sulu had managed to convince the personnel there to let him spend some time with the less important samples. Already he had corrected three mistakes in their natural habitat simulations. So, it wasn't that surprising that his commanding officer was able to find him there.

"I would prefer if you did not." Spock raised an eyebrow, as usual.

Sulu sighed. "It's an expression. You know, fishing? Okay. Never mind. Why do you want to know about Kirk?"

"It is likely that, should I know fully what to expect from him, I will be better equipped to handle our interactions."

"Oh…And why come to me?"

"You were familiar with the Captain during his schooling at Starfleet. As my relationship with Dr. McCoy is antagonistic at best, I felt it prudent to direct my inquiries to you."

"Oh." Sulu repeated, lamely. "Well…I mean, I guess I knew him back then. As much as anyone who isn't McCoy and wasn't sleeping with him could, anyway. Not that he really knew half the girls he was sleeping with. I could never tell, you know? No….uh…okay."

Both of Spock's eyebrows were lifted, quietly informing Sulu that he was babbling and looking like an idiot. He chuckled nervously and stood, running a hand through his hair.

"Um…I can give you a tour while we talk, if that's alright."

"That is acceptable." Spock nodded once, face blank as ever.

"Okay…yeah…" Sulu started into the rows, pointing out quickly the planet they were from. "So…I guess Kirk was really not as much a player as everyone thought? I mean, the rumors were intense, but he hardly seemed to have time for all that to be going on. He volunteered in most every program, I think. I know a lot of my classmates mentioned seeing him lending a hand in one department or another. He generally avoided the sciences though after that one incident."

"To which incident are you referring?"

"Huh. Guess you wouldn't have heard about that." Sulu scratched his neck, riffling off a touch more information about the plants before continuing. "It was actually kept pretty quiet. I only know because I was there, and McCoy knows because its McCoy. Kirk was helping out in the chemistry labs. I think he was helping with synthehol, nasty stuff…My group had been working on improved replication techniques. Anyway, Kirk was seriously focused, I guess it was at an unstable point because in the end, it blew up."

"What was the cause for the explosion?"

Sulu shrugged. "It got overheated, I think. The problem was what happened to Kirk."

Spock tensed and Sulu quickly diverted to the plants. After explaining the next section they were passing into, Sulu continued, feeling only slightly apprehensive.

"There was this girl, flirting with him like nobody's business. Except, of course, her boyfriend, who wasn't too far away. The guy had been working with replicated fruit when he came over and hauled off on Kirk…Uh he yanked Kirk back from where he was politely ignoring the girl to beat him up." Sulu explained quickly, trying to remember not to use too many colloquialisms. "Kirk flipped out, slugging…punching…the guy and telling him to never touch him."

"Could you deduce the reason behind his action?"

"Kirk's? No. Not really. Might have had something to do with the way the guy grabbed him, he had yanked on his waist to turn him around, rather than his shoulder. He was Tellarite, so it was probably a height thing." Sulu idly reached out to play with a flower. "But it set Kirk off. The guy slapped him. Some of the replicated fruit must have been something Kirk was allergic to, because he stated gasping, clutching his throat and he was getting this nasty red swelling on his cheek that had nothing to do with being slapped. The teacher hauled him off towards where the emergency med kit was kept but Jim kept frantically waving to go back to his experiment."

"If he were suffering from such a drastic allergic reaction he would be in no condition to tend his experiment." Spock's tone was reprimanding, and Jim wasn't even there.

"Yeah, but no one had thought to turn off the fire he was using. Fortunately, everyone had followed them out to watch. The synthehol exploded, taking out half the facility room. It was a mess and Kirk agreed mutually with the science faculty that it would be best if he never set foot in there again outside of class."

"I was unaware Jim was the cause of that explosion. We were informed of an experiment going awry and instructed to disregard it. I had considered it unusual at the time." Spock frowned slightly. "It would appear they did not wish to cause duress for him, or to suffer for their own lapses."

"Yeah." Sulu winced, coming up to a stop at the edge of the Vulcan section. "But other than that, he kept pretty busy with his classes and everything. I mean, you looked into his record, right? You had to have seen just how many projects he did. And he fit four years into three. And took the Kobayashi Maru three times."

"Indeed." Spock agreed, eyeing the section ahead of him with fond remembrance that came across as complete indifference.

"So…maybe his reputation is a bit exaggerated?"

"Has he disclosed to you the source of his confrontational behavior?"

"Hu? No. He just…is. Always has been." Sulu started laughing, earning a sharp glance. "Sorry, I just realized, maybe he should have been born a Cardassian. I mean, that's really how most people got to know him. His debate teacher loved him and he showed his respect for the engineering instructors by trying to prove them wrong."

"Fascinating." Spock lifted an eyebrow. "Thank you for humoring me, Mr. Sulu. I will not keep you from your research longer."

"Sure. No problem." Sulu sighed, feeling more at ease than he had before. "The crew gets a bit on edge when you two get physical, but we really do think you work well together."

"Thank you. It is my intent to solve the problems we currently face that lead to physical reactions."

"Yeah?" Sulu grinned. "That's great. Good luck."

Sulu disappeared before Spock had a chance to tell him that luck was illogical. A small part of him insisted he might just need it.

… .. .

"Commander?" Rand's voice echoed through his door.

"Yeoman Rand." He opened the door to her, stepping to the side to let her in.

She stepped in and allowed the door to shut behind her. "You requested I bring the documents here?"

"Of course." He held his hand out to accept the envelope.

She placed it in his hands, eyes flitting over the room. They came to land on the spare door. Spock followed the direction of her eyes. Was Jim in his room? Was he still mad? Rand was across the room already, banging on the door. Spock felt the irrational need to stop her, sudden, unfamiliar embarrassment at the thought that Jim did not know it was Rand.

"Desist." He said softly, being ignored.

Jim didn't answer, and a touch a disappointment flared in his chest. Was it because he though it was Spock, and did not wish to see him? No, he was being ridiculous. Jim wouldn't ignore him, because there was a high probability he would only intrude upon him if it were important. Jim wasn't in his room. Rand hissed in annoyance, keying something into the console by the door. It beeped once at her, and remained shut.

With a little huff, she keyed another number in. Spock recognized it as the security override. Fascinating. It would be most pertinent to discover how she learned the base's codes and deal with the security breach.

The door slid open with only a moment's hesitation. A loud yelp met their ears.

"What the hell?" Jim screeched. "Rand?"

"Captain." She flushed.

Spock stared blankly into the room. Jim was standing by his dresser, cheeks red, gaping at Rand. His blond hair had been pushed back messily, and Spock briefly wondered if it had ever seen a brush. Water was dripping from it, trailing down his neck, across his pectoral muscles, abdominals, and down to soak into the edge of the towel around his waist. Rivulets of water traced the edges of his muscles, lending a sharp glean to his figure under the harsh lights of the room.

It was fascinating, just how deeply Jim blushed. The faint stain of red on his shoulders was flattering for his appearance, a most unusual thing. Spock had always admired his mother's blush, a rich, deep color that told of intense emotion. The resonant color reminded him of sun scorched deserts and deep, cool canyons, the pull of his home. His mother had once told him how flattering she found that description, though he knew not why.

He peeled his eyes from the red dusted flesh to meet panicking blue orbs. "My apologies Captain. I had attempted to stop her. Had I known she possessed the security override codes, I would have made greater protest."

Rand flushed deeper, whipping her head around at him in surprise. The color of her blush was nothing like the sands of Vulcan. Where Jim was a dusty, vibrant red, she was far too clean. The color was bright, unforgivingly so, and too much of a purple undertone carried in it, lending to the color of an earth cherry. Beautiful, he supposed, by earth standards, but the color meant nothing to him. His heart quickened a bit, surprised by the unusual and irrelevant information.

"Oh." Jim squeaked. "Was there something you needed?"

Rand straightened, keeping her eyes on the floor. "I wanted to let you know that I've handed the treaty over to Spock. I'm sorry for not discussing it with you earlier but you were…preoccupied."

Jim scowled, embarrassment nearly loosing out to annoyance. "I'm sorry. That was my fault and it won't happen again. Nothing is more important to me than my ship and her crew. I'd never want my personal life to get between it."

"Personal?" Rand asked incredulously. "I thought you were just dealing with her because you had to. What do you mean personal?"

Jim flinched at the accusatory tone in that last sentence. "I-"

"The Captain believed you inferred something personal from his interactions with Captain Tain and chose that reason not to address him." Spock interjected quickly. "As the matter of the treaty is of somewhat less importance than safety when dealing with Cardassians, it was right of you to seek my assistance in the matter instead."

"Oh?" Rand asked suspiciously, casting a look at Jim, and promptly blushing. "I…I'm done here so…I'll be leaving."

She turned quickly and left through Spock's room. When the sound of his door closing rang through the room, Jim sank down onto the edge of his bed. Spock inclined his eyebrow, prompting him to speak.

"Thanks." Jim sighed, giving him a grateful look. "The last thing I need is for more of my crew to find me incompetent."

"I find it unlikely any of your crew deems you incapable of performing your duties."

Jim laughed, leaning back on the bed. "I think you're forgetting to include yourself there."

"I am not." Spock forced himself to focus somewhere just above Jim's right shoulder, feeling oddly uncomfortable.

Jim sat bolt up right, blushing again. "You don't think I'm incompetent?"

Spock raised both of his eyebrows at that. "I would not work for you if I did, Captain."

Jim grinned. "I'm going to shut up now before I can make you angry at me."

Spock's lips twitched through a faint smile and Jim felt his heart accelerate. They were getting along. Something clicked in his head, and his smile fell abruptly. Spock straightened at the sight, taking a quick step forward.

"Captain?"

"Ah…on second thought…there is something I should say, even if it does make you mad at me." Jim admitted, avoiding Spock's eyes.

Spock felt his muscles tense in preparation for a fight, and forced himself to remain calm. "If what you say is necessary, I shall not be displeased."

Jim gulped, loudly, and laced his fingers together. It was a surprisingly consuming move. Spock found himself riveted, though he had never watched the Captain's hands before. They were of no special significance, though Spock couldn't help but feel they spoke entirely in the secluded language of Jim's buried emotions. Perhaps it would be prudent to pay them more thought. Jim looked up at him, eyes full of uncertainty. How was it these once elusive emotions seemed so easy to detect?

"I don't want you seeing Garak again."

Spock blinked in surprise. "Captain-"

"No. Wait." Jim raised his hand to stop him. "I have an actual reason, so hear me out. Cardassians are xenophobic. I know we're trying to get along with them, but he's a xenobiologist. Most of the time, for Cardassians, that means he's looking to cause trouble for other species. If he gets a good idea of Vulcan biology, he could pose a real threat. And besides…I don't want him to hurt you."

At that last sentence, Jim dropped his voice, growing steadily more embarrassed. It was uniquely endearing. He found Jim's concern for his health to be appealing, cajoling him into feeling strangely comfortable with the undue concern.

"You needed only ask, Captain." Spock said truthfully, managing not to surprise himself with the words.

"What?" Jim snapped his head back up.

"I recognize the dangers of interaction with him. More over, I find it prudent I defer to you in regards towards appropriate interactions with guests on the ship."

Jim caught the teasing tone and laughed. Spock's lips twitched into a smile that didn't fall away immediately. It was nice, and he offered a genuine smile in return.

"I do not, however, believe it was his intent to harm me." Spock continued, more seriously.

"You don't?" Jim pouted, a slight feeling of apprehension in his chest.

"I was under the impression that he wish to seek my company for sexual gratification."

Jim spluttered, face a deep red. "You noticed that?"

"I am not blind, Captain." Spock let a smug little smirk cross his features.

"Were…uh…were you considering it?" Dear god that was an embarrassing question to ask. Why did he ask that?

Spock's lip curled back ever so slightly in disgust as he spoke. "I had intended to keep very busy during our time here."

Jim laughed, feeling suddenly relived. It was, he insisted, because Spock wouldn't be mucking about with someone dangerous. He'd felt so angry when he thought Spock might actually be interested in the man. It wasn't like he knew much about Vulcans and their sexuality, and his First Officer was an even greater mystery. That tug of anger had been filled with fear though.

"Oh. Oh my God." Jim stared at Spock in horror. "Is this how you felt when you warned me to stay away from Nat-Captain Tain?"

Spock noticed the conscious decision to use her title and felt a small swell of understanding. "I am unaware of your present emotional state."

Without thinking, Jim reached out and caught Spock's hand, letting the fear and anger flow through their connection. Spock inhaled sharply, glancing down at their connected limb. His eyes found trouble focusing, and a warm sensation accompanied the initial anger. Jim's emotions were so close, right beneath his fingertips, and yet so far away. Jim yanked himself back immediately, a entirely new fear touching their connection at the last second.

"I'm so sorry!" Jim was clutching his hands to his chest. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to."

"It…is alright." Spock took a deep breath to steady himself.

"B-but…I…that…I'm not supposed to…and your hand..." Jim was babbling himself into a state of incoherence.

Spock knelt before the bed, forcing Jim to look him in the eye. "You did nothing wrong. You intent was not intimate in nature. You wished to share your emotions with me in the hopes of edification towards my own."

Jim scrambled back, attempting to keep the towel in place at the same time. "Don't!"

Spock stood quickly, alarmed. Jim was rather suddenly, blatantly afraid, though neither action would be cause of such a reaction. He was once again reminded of the cornered animal he saw and felt in Jim. There was no denying the way he withdrew himself.

Spock straightened, tugging his shirt neat and then folding his hands behind his back. "I did not mean to cause you distress, Captain. Forgive me."

In his room, he reengaged the security lock and sent a message to the Commodore admonishing whoever released to code to Rand. In the morning they would be changed.

… … .. . .. … …

**They really have no luck with this getting along thing.**


	12. Chapter 12

…**Honestly I don't even wish I owned Star Trek. Too much work.**

… … .. . .. … …

Spock had little concern for the many looks he received as he entered the commissary alone. Nor did he care about the people staring while he ate alone. He had become used to such interactions when he was in the academy. Jim, in his usual hurricane of energy came swooping into the room, catching everyone's attention. By now, people were aware of his presence on the Starbase and the entire crew was being watched from afar with admiration.

Almost immediately Jim joined him, meal in hand. "Sorry about last night."

Spock was beginning to discover the act of sighing very therapeutic and terribly hard to resist in Jim's presence. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"I freaked out again. I'm pretty sure that's a reason to apologize. And that isn't even considering the fact that I touched you again."

Giving in to his illogical need, Spock allowed a small sigh to pass through his lips. "While I admit I was unprepared for your actions, I was not harmed by them, not did I find them overtly obstructive."

Kirk growled, swallowing his mouthful of egg and sausage. "No. No one should touch people without their permission."

Spock was unable to reply as David flung himself down beside Jim. His three companions sat down more carefully, nodding their greetings to him. Jim grinned, snaking an arm around the boy's shoulders as he took another mouthful.

"Hey Jim. Heard about that little scene in the rec. room."

"Schwne?" Jim swallowed quickly at the disgusted look he received. "What scene?"

"Only that you held your own against a Vulcan in chess." The woman laughed, slapping the table in her amusement.

Jim twitched, causing David to flinch. "Hey Spock, did I hold my own against you?"

Spock straightened at the dangerous tone. "Affirmative."

"Huh. Go figure." Jim returned to his meal.

The woman looked apologetic, glancing at Spock in embarrassment. Just like that, Jim had managed to make it very uncomfortable. Spock was fairly used to being excluded from most social interactions, and mostly preferred to watch. While he was prone to tunnel vision, and often would become engrossed in conversation with a single person around him, Jim encouraged others to do the same. And in no conversation about a person did he allow them to be treated like they were not there.

"You have a most intriguing ability of making people…uncomfortable." Spock observed.

Jim started laughing, which got David and his friends started. Soon they were attempting to pull themselves together, wiping tears of laughter from their eyes. Spock looked up from them raising his eyebrow at who he saw. Jim had no time to prepare for the hypo that plunged into his neck.

"Shit! Bones." Jim whirled around, staring accusingly at his friend. "What was that for?"

"You have bags under your eyes." He informed pointedly, moving to the other side of the table, next to Spock.

"You couldn't see them from behind me."

"I saw you last night." McCoy said pointedly, reaching over to jab Spock with a hypo.

Spock caught his wrist, raising an eyebrow. "Doctor? I do not believe you are justified in injecting me with this unknown substance."

"Oh relax you green blooded menace." McCoy snarled, yanking his hand back. "It's vitamin and mineral mix. You haven't been eating high iron food lately and you're missing some key nutrients."

"Would it not be more prudent to discuss such a matter, rather than attack me?"

"Fine. We discussed it. Start eating properly and you won't need another injection, but you need this one."

"Very well." Spock submitted to the stab with quiet dignity.

Jim winced, noting the particularly savage way Bones jabbed the hypo in. Spock ignored him completely. David rubbed his neck in sympathy as well, eyeing the man's bag with the same disdain as Jim often did.

"Don't you have somewhere to be soon?" McCoy eyed Jim's half-eaten meal.

"Oh! Crap! We have to meet with the Commodore!" Jim immediately dug into his meal, swallowing large, half chewed bites.

"Jim! Slow down."

"Mph, hmmm." Jim nodded enthusiastically, detangling himself from his friend and standing to go.

"Keptin!" Chekov waved enthusiastically from where he and Sulu had entered the cafeteria.

"Chekov! Sulu!" He beamed, "You guys have to introduce yourselves, I need to head out."

"Sure thing." Sulu laughed.

Spock was watching Jim with a raised eyebrow. When the Captain finished, he sprang to his feet and turned to run out. With a skid, he stopped and ran back around the table and yanked on Spock's sleeve, careful not to actually touch him.

"Up! Up! We have to go!"

Spock stood silently, regarding the table with a last nod on parting. Jim was, once again, running as soon as he could. Spock maintained a quick enough pace that Jim did not stretch out his shirt. Now, running through the halls did garner the attention of people. Barely half a day on the Starbase, and they were recognizable as a mix of blue and gold running past in an unidentifiable hurry. Jim stopped by Spock's room first to grab the envelope, then headed back towards their meeting at a fast lope.

Outside of the Commodore's office, Spock tugged his sleeve straight. Jim grinned sheepishly at him and rubbed his hands together.

"Captain?"

"Yeah?"

"…Nothing."

Jim gave him a suspicious look as he knocked on the door. The Commodore opened it with a look of amusement.

"You're ten minutes early."

"I like to be early." Jim admitted.

"Come in." He stepped back and headed to the desk.

The room was, undoubtedly, rather large. It seemed impossibly small with the enormous piles of paper and several PADDs scattered about. Jim whistled, admiring the stacked pages as he ran his finger over them. His finger split over the stiff edge and he yanked it back with a grin. He spun around with his finger in his mouth, sucking at the bloody appendage.

Spock's eyes widened a bit, confusion and embarrassment coloring them. Jim cocked his head to the side, mouthing the word 'what' around his finger. Spock looked quickly away, and Jim could almost swear there was a touch more green to his skin than usual.

"Alright, here you go." Stone announced happily, having managed to clean the documents from two chairs.

"Why do you have all this paper in here?" Jim swung into a seat, sprawling across it casually.

"Different negotiations and important documents I have to get to their respective places." He waved absentmindedly at the papers. "A lot of people feel comfortable with hardcopies in existence somewhere, so this is often where they end up first."

"Paper is pretty nice." Jim shrugged, tossing the envelope on the desk.

"Hmm." Stone opened the envelope, looking the treaty over before nodding and filing it.

"Is there any order to this system?"

"Not really."

The two laughed.

"So." Jim grinned, leaning forward and resting his arms on the desk. "What else do we need to talk about?"

Stone sighed. "First of all, I'm supposed to talk about you two being stuck together, or something."

Jim winced. "Oh. Yeah. Well, we're not anymore."

"Clearly. Did you write your reports on the issue?"

"Yes sir."

"Then that conversation is done." Stone leaned back, kicking his feet up on the desk. "Now for the important part. We need to talk about your little friends, the Cardassians."

… .. .

"Fuck." Jim cawed, resting his head on his arms.

Scotty patted his shoulder sympathetically, mostly ignoring him in favor of his sandwich. Around him, the bridge crew watched with various looks of sympathy. Except Spock, who had one eyebrow raised to inform him he was being unnecessarily melodramatic. Well, and Bones, who was ignoring him in favor of his own lunch.

"Seriously. He completely rode me on the issue and _you._" Jim cast a glare at Spock. "You were no help at all. I can't believe you told him…that."

"The term 'that' is not only subjective, but purposefully vague. If you wish to reprimand me for something I said, then please specify." That damn smirk, twitching up the left side of his lips came and went fast enough to give Jim whiplash.

Jim flushed. "Never mind."

"Vhat vas problem vith the being friendly vith…guest?" Chekov was careful not to use the term Cardassian since they were in public.

"Nothing." Jim insisted. "It was just…he was being a bit…ah…"

"He heard about your reputation." Uhura interjected smugly. "And of course he wanted to know if you tried to sleep with anyone."

Jim glared. "I wasn't the one being propositioned by a _guy_ on the premise of xenobiological studies."

Uhura froze, and all eyes turned to Spock, who raised his eyebrow in return. Jim laughed because this time he did notice the faint green that had crossed Spock's cheeks and ear tips. Spock raised both of his eyebrows at him even as the table turned to regard their now hysterical Captain.

"You have to admit." Jim gasped between laughs. "That was a pretty lame pick up line."

"I will trust your impute on the matter as I am nowhere near as familiar with these…'pick up lines'…as you are."

Jim grinned, flushing a little. "Oh yeah? I could probably teach you a thing or two."

"Jim stop flirting." McCoy said around his sandwich, not bothering to look up. "It's disgusting."

"I wasn't!" Jim insisted, still smiling.

"Isn't it illogical for a guy to preposition a male Vulcan?" Sulu asked, blatantly confused.

Spock nodded. "There is no benefit to coitus between members of the same gender as it will not lead to procreation."

"Vell, not 'no' benefit." Chekov giggled, a deep red.

Poor, sweet, _not_ so innocent Chekov.

"Nah." Jim scolded. "Girls are the only way to go if you want the best gratification."

Uhura blinked in surprise, then started snickering. "The best? What else do you have for comparison, exactly?"

Jim paled. "That wasn't what I meant."

"Truly, Mr. Chekov, Vulcans have no need for stimulation of such a nature." Spock continued the conversation quickly as he noticed the fear in Jim's eyes. "It is illogical to engage in such activities without the intent to reproduce."

"Seriously?" Sulu took the bait of continued discussion. "Pleasure isn't a logical enough reason to do it?"

"Can we stop this?" Bones interrupted, mostly directed at the inquisitive look Uhura had fixed Jim with. "I don't want to hear about Vulcans having sex and I've already heard way too much about Jim."

The table laughed a little. A bit of color came back to Jim's face.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jim asked, a falsely offended tone to his voice.

"Just because some aliens have four types of gender doesn't mean you have to screw both of the ones that count as girls." McCoy pointed out matter-of-factly, effectively answering Uhura's question.

"Hey Captain." Giotto's voice echoed across the room, causing many people to look his way.

"Hey Cupcake!" Jim called back, grinning.

Giotto flinched a bit a the nickname, rolling his eyes. The feigned exasperation with his Captain earned him an even wider smile. With a smirk of his own, he cricked his neck from side to side, preparing for their usual idle banter.

"You guys ready to get your asses handed to you in tactical games?" He had approached, but barely lowered his volume.

"You don't honestly think you and a few measly security officers can take down the Captain of the Enterprise _and_ his bridge crew?" Jim laughed.

Over the course of the mission, he and Giotto had gotten past their prior differences. Careful teasing and good natured ribbing was, of course, in order, but they no longer had any malicious intent for each other. It helped that Jim spent a good amount of time helping security with their training. It was one of his preferred departments to assist in.

"I've got plenty of trained guys who listen to me completely."

"I've taken on worse." Jim yawned excessively, a teasing move.

"Hardly. You haven't taken on people trained like mine."

"No." Jim admitted with a shrug. "And I probably couldn't beat your hand picked best on my own, but with Spock? Easy as hell."

At this prompting, Spock straightened his spine, flushing a little. Jim's praise was oddly welcome. Pride. Jim had pride for him. It was…touching…and unnecessary. Uhura caught him with a knowing look and smiled a little, turning back to the playful confrontation.

"Are you telling me the rest of your crew is dead weight?"

"Hell no. Bones had the fastest time on the quick draw. Sulu was the fastest on the obstacle course last year. Scotty's a tough guy. Chekov's a tactical genius. And Uhura, she's a conniving fox. I've got the best crew in the universe."

Now the rest of his crew blushed, grinning and beaming at the praise they received.

"Not that we won't have a hard time against my awesome security crew."

"Okay kiss-up." Giotto grinned. "We aren't going to go easy because of flattery."

"Why does everyone think I want them to go easy on me?" Jim threw his hands into the air, pouting.

… .. .

Jim was only slightly embarrassed that he had to stop his crew halfway through their game because _no one_ was firing upon each other. The point of the game was not, in fact, to disarm the person and then run off, leaving their gun behind for them. With a little reminder, and a demonstration from his over zealous CMO, he proved that they could not hurt each other and should actually shoot. The only thing it gave you was points and the satisfaction of shooting at something.

To his security officers' credit, they were well prepared for most of what Kirk threw at them in terms of offence. They had no idea how to handle his defensive strategies, however, and his team won out in the end. Moving perfectly in unison and having everyone listen to his ideas and throw out suggestions was immensely gratifying. When their session finally ended, they were all smiling, winners and losers alike.

Loud cheering and clapping assaulted their ears when they stepped out into the main access way. Their scores were displayed on large screens around the room. Highlights of their fight were replaying, offering various angles and some smartass had overlaid them with lines and circles highlighting their movements.

Jim swaggered through the crowd, smirking and nodding as he made his way through. It wasn't too bad, being looked at like that. It was something he'd grown accustom to since joining Starfleet. That and the looks of utter disappointment, but he ignored those.

"Alright you two." McCoy snapped his fingers, pointing at Jim and Spock. "It's about time I got another set of scans on you."

"That isn't really necessary." Jim insisted.

"You're not getting out of this. I haven't gotten a proper chance to look you both over since that stupid stunt. You need reexamined now that the stress of it is over."

Jim sighed, dropping his shoulders in and exaggerated manner and casting his crew a pathetic look. They waved at him with bright smiles, completely ignoring his unhappiness. Spock said nothing, but Jim could see how much he didn't want to go. It was interesting that the other man seemed to almost hate Sickbay as much as he did. Maybe he could ask him about it sometime? He glanced at him and grinned brightly, winking.

Spock blinked in response, noting the mischievous, bright twinkle that turned his eyes an unnaturally bright blue. He liked that color far better than the fear laced anger that tinted them gray or the perplexing, hollow lust that dyed them green. The only color they belonged were blue. It was a…confusing thought process.

Jim glanced at the far door, then Spock's hand, then the door again. McCoy missed the gesture in favor of ranting. The rest of the crew had dispersed to speak with various crew members of the Starbase. Spock recognized the way Jim rocked on his heels and nodded his agreement with the man's plan. As illogical as it was to avoid the doctor, he did not favor the idea of visiting Sickbay at the current moment.

Even more illogical was the little thrill fluttering beneath his breastbone, desiring to see just what his Captain would do. Obviously he intended to run, but to where? Would Jim stay if he did? A curious question, but he found he wanted more to follow him than to remain where he was standing.

Like lightning, Jim caught Spock's hand and was running for the door at a full tilt. McCoy whipped his head around in time to see the blur of gold and blue disappear through the door. Everyone who had stepped out of their way stood blinking in surprise.

In the hall, Jim weaved through the crowed without slowing a step. Spock kept pace easily. His focus fell to the hand in his. The gesture seemed so natural with Jim. He could feel the childlike exuberance and playful energy filling him. Jim was laughing, running like mad and genuinely pleased. When had touching Jim become such a welcome gesture? Just earlier in the week he was most displeased by their situation. Now, he welcomed the rush of naked emotion and the insight it provided. More over, he was pleased to allow the small gesture since it meant so much to Jim.

Jim keyed the lock to his room with childlike use of bouncing and giggling. It was…well…unusual, to hear the light, bubbly sound from the normally robust man. Laughter, chuckling, chortling, all sounds he could reconcile with Jim, but the faint giggle was too unorthodox. When the door came open he yanked Spock in with him and engaged the lock. Still springing in place, he launched himself across the room and collapsed on his bed, dragging Spock down next to him. Jim was breathless, laughing though he had yet to release Spock's hand.

"That was great!" Jim shouted enthusiastically. "He had no idea!"

"Indeed." Spock agreed, allowing himself to relax somewhat in his unusual position on the bed.

Though their backs and shoulders were fully supported, their legs hung from the edge of the bed. Jim's hand was still in his, sharing warm content. Spock closed his eyes, allowing his defenses to lower in the rare presence of true pleasure from the man. A small smile graced his lips and he heard Jim shift on the bed. A soft chuckling caused him to open his eyes. Jim was laying on his side, grinning at him.

"Yes, Jim?"

"That was fun."

"I am pleased you enjoyed yourself."

Jim glanced down at their hands, eyes widening a bit. "Oh. Sorry."

He made to move his hand and, illogically, Spock gripped the appendage tighter. Jim flushed, staring at their hands in confusion. Spock blushed as well, eyes trained on Jim. He understood Jim's embarrassment perfectly.

"It is illogical to apologize as I gave you permission."

Jim nodded slowly. "O-oh. Okay. Isn't…isn't it…"

"A small gesture for most humans, is it not?"

"Uh…sometimes?"

"I am not adverse to acclimating myself to human gestures."

"Yeah?" Jim perked up, smiling illogically.

"Yes."

Jim sat up straight, pulling his hand from Spock's. As he felt no discomfort, he allowed Jim to do so. It was illogical for him to wish to maintain contact. And fascinating that he should do so. He joined Jim in a sitting position.

"Will you teach me Vulcan gestures?"

Spock nodded, though the request was unusual. "What do you wish to learn?"

"Everything!" Jim said, excitedly punctuating his sentence with a bounce on the bed.

"I see." Spock allowed a small smirk to dance across his lips. "Then perhaps you should know Vulcans attribute no special meaning to holding hands, as we do not partake of such gestures. It is conceivable that such an action would be viewed as similar to a Vulcan kiss, but, due to the fact that the point of contact is the palm, and not the fingers, it would not be as intimate a gesture. The closest gesture in Vulcan society is el'ru'esta. The gesture involves crossing the hands at the wrists and touching palms. It is an appropriate embrace for families."

"Why are fingers so important?" Jim stared down at his palm, curious.

"Vulcan fingers have a greater nerve cluster than Terrans. The greater sensitivity facilitates our touch telepathy and is almost crucial in mind melds."

"So…Vulcan kisses are to let each other feel your affection?"

Spock blinked, as though the thought of sharing emotions was completely foreign to him. "Perhaps."

Jim exhaled shakily, looking at his hands with childlike glee. "That's so cool!"

There was a wonder there, palpable in the air. Some kind of gentle longing shone from Jim's eyes, a thoughtful, wishful thing. The want, for what he did not know, resonated with Spock, aching in an unfamiliar way. It was as though his muscles had been overused and called out weak protests, though the phantom sensation seemed dictated by the constant coiling and relaxing of his muscles in indecision. It was Jim's want though, he could tell by the duplicity of the emotion. Why was it Jim's emotions clung to his thoughts long after they had ceased contact?

"What other gestures do Vulcans have that are different from how humans do it?" Jim had looked up from his hands, though they still shook minutely with poorly contained…something.

… .. .

"I'm just saying." Uhura sighed, waving her fork at the man seated across from her. "They're getting along more."

"Humph." Bones crossed his arms, having set his sandwich down. "They've gone from ignoring each other to fighting and then falling over themselves to apologize."

"You don't think that's progress?"

"Jim wanted to talk to you about how to get along better with Spock." McCoy shrugged. "He thinks that you'll help since you love him."

"Who? Kirk?" She blushed a little. "He's so conceded…"

"Don't play innocent, woman." McCoy warned. "There isn't anything wrong with you liking the goblin. Kirk will be the first to defend you if anyone takes issue with it."

She sighed, twirling her fork around in her meal. "It's like puppy love. I was infatuated from afar, but it just isn't the same up close. He looked so cool and mysterious from the eyes of a student that saw him for a few hours a day."

McCoy snorted. "But when you realized he wasn't just playing aloof bad boy you got bored?"

She puffed her cheeks out, blushing. "I did not get bored! I just…I realized that what I had been interested in what this…idea that he was really secretly like me. I'm smart and calm and professional on the job, but I kick back and relax. He's _always_ on the job."

"Can't handle that stress?" He sounded a little smug.

"No." She admitted truthfully. "I don't think I can. But the more I watch now, the more I see how exactly opposite he is from Kirk."

"You mean he isn't reckless?"

"That." She laughed. "And it takes something serious to get Kirk to focus. When he does though…he has the making of the best Captain in Starfleet history."

"Does it hurt you to admit that?" Bones smiled knowingly.

"A little." She shrugged. "It'll be easier in another month, and even easier a month after that. It's hard not to respect him when he does so damn much to earn it."

"Don't I know it." McCoy shook his head. "Trust me, I've tried not to. And with the things I know about him…at one point it would have been easier not to respect him, but the deeper you dig, the more he digs in until you just can't get rid of him."

They shared a little laugh, and then she sighed. "But with Spock, it takes so much, something huge to get him to visibly break down and become emotional. And it isn't always anger, either."

"There really is something to be said about magnets." McCoy sighed, picking his sandwich back up.

"McCoy!" David called from halfway across the room, already sprinting towards them.

"Good God, man." McCoy hissed. "Approach like a normal human being."

"Heh, sorry." He glanced at Uhura and grinned. "Good evening pretty lady."

"Don't." She warned. "I was there when Kirk taught you how to flirt. It wasn't successful."

"Ouch." He grinned, sitting down. "Speaking of the great and powerful Kirok, have you seen him?"

"Not since he ran off with the green-blooded-point-eared bastard to avoid a medical scan."

"He must really like Jim if he puts up with your name-calling. Or you."

McCoy nearly choked on his sandwich. "None of that."

"Anyway, I wasn't here about that." David waved his hand dismissively. "Not that I'm not curious, but later. Everyone's up in arms about why the Enterprise and some mysterious ship are docked in the highest security docks and no one is getting to say anything about the work being done. I'm not asking about it, but I am going to tell you that that cameraman has been spewing out random information he probably got off the top of his head. He's been telling everyone in security you brought Cardassians, or Klingons or something here."

McCoy and Uhura exchanged a glance and he sighed, rubbing his temples a little.

"The man probably needs a psych evaluation." McCoy announced.

"With out actually confirming or denying anything, how much of a security breach is this guy and should I bring this to the attention of my superiors and the Commodore?"

Uhura shrugged, a sly look on her face. "Any rumors that are likely to cause panic, like those, should probably be brought to attention. Besides, if people thought the Captain of the Enterprise was harboring a hostile group of aliens, it could damage people's faith in the Federation."

David winced, noting the professionally vague advice. "Okay. I'll do that. And I'll make sure everyone else knows not to mention anything he says on pain of getting tied to a warp core reactor."

"Anything else?" McCoy growled.

"No. I should probably get on that. You guys'll probably be leaving tomorrow morning, so…bye." He stood to go, offering a small wave.

"David." McCoy said seriously. "I'm sorry about your father."

David smiled, a small, but grateful thing. "Thanks. You know…I just wish he could have lived long enough to see Jim become Captain. He was so proud when he joined Starfleet."

"Take care of yourself." McCoy nodded and the boy left.

"What's his relationship with Kirk anyway?" Uhura watched him go, brow furrowed.

McCoy shifted in his seat a bit, looking uncomfortable. "Jim stayed with him and his family for a while when he was younger."

Seeing how uncomfortable he was, she dropped the topic. If she really wanted to know, she'd ask Kirk. Some other time, though, when they had developed a better working relationship. It would be too awkward now and she didn't know him near enough to be asking him personal information.

… … .. . .. … …

**Doo doo do doo. I don't even know.**

_**El'ru'esta**_**-Pretty much explained that one, didn't I?**

_**Ozh'esta**_**-The little index and middle finger kiss for bondmates…just so you know…even though I didn't include it.**


	13. Chapter 13

…**Still not owning.**

**Thanks to all my reviewers, favoriters, and just general readers.**

**Doni: It is nice to have a chapter without angst. Unfortunately, it proves necessary. Enjoy some extra sexual tension to make up for it.**

… … .. . .. … …

"This is the last reminder." Jim's voice echoed over the comm. of the space station. "I want all of my crew finished boarding in half an hour. No excuses!"

He leaned back in the chair, having flicked the comm. off, and grinned up at Stone. The older man had just entered, and was shaking his head in mild amusement.

"Hello Commodore."

"Hello Kirk." He snorted in enjoyment. "Is it really necessary to be bothering _my_ crew this early in the morning?"

"Who me? A bother?" Jim smirked up at him innocently. "I haven't done anything."

"You've spent the last ten minutes telling them how you'll miss them and will never forget them. Barely three of those minutes were actually spent informing your crew you're leaving this morning."

"That's not a bother." He insisted. "It's a friendly reminder. They'll all be so sad once I'm gone."

Stone allowed an eye roll, and flicked a disapproving look to the giggling girls manning the comm. station. "Where's your First Officer?"

Jim felt a strange flush creep up his cheeks and quickly reigned it in. "We don't go everywhere together!"

"No?" Stone took on a smug little smirk and Jim knew he'd just lost something. "All I hear about lately is the gold and blue streak running through my halls."

Jim offered a sufficiently smug smirk of his own. "Oh? See how much they'll miss me?"

Stone grimaced. "I handed that to you, didn't I? Get out of here."

"Yes sir." Jim answered to both statements, then offered a sweet wave to the girls. "Bye ladies. Try not to miss me too much."

Stone pushed him out of the room by his shoulder, giggles filling the room behind them.

… .. .

"Nyota." Spock would admit he was a bit frustrated as the communications officer had been avoiding him.

"Spock." She nodded quickly and stood to go, about to abandon her breakfast.

"Have I done something to displease you?" Ha asked seriously, giving her pause.

"No. Of course not." She sat back down and waved for him to join her. "I was just about to report to the ship."

"You have been ignoring my attempts to contact you and have been avoiding my presence. I am unaware of what has transpired since our last contact yesterday, during the simulation, but if there has been some transgression on my part, please inform me of it." He remained standing.

"I'm having some difficulties with a few of the guys here." She said awkwardly. "I really just haven't had any time since I've been avoiding everyone."

"Is there any way I may assist you?"

She flushed, a stray little idea coloring her thoughts. She shook it away quickly. She _couldn't_ do that to him and it wouldn't be helping her any.

"No. People would get the wrong idea."

He lifted his eyebrow, but said nothing.

She sighed, diving into an explanation. "The easiest way to get them to leave me alone would be to convince them I was already in a relationship. Vulcans don't do casual, so even if you would help, people would assume it was a serious relationship."

Spock tensed a bit. "I apologize. You are a commendable friend, but I harbor no romantic interest in you at this point. While I would not be adverse to helping you, as you have often done for me, you are correct in your assumption that people would draw their conclusions based on my heritage."

Her chest only clenched a little, confirming what she had said the night before. "That's alright. Did you need something?"

He paused, glancing around to see that there were no other crewmembers in sight. "I am…torn."

She winced a bit, knowing it had to be bad if he was falling into figurative language. "What's wrong?"

"I…wish to form a friendship with Jim, but am uncertain of how to go about doing so." Spock shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"_Jim_?" She asked incredulously, "Spock you already are friends with him. Just tell him you wish to form a friendship and he'll help you from there."

"Are you certain?" Spock didn't sound like he was at all. "I was led to believe such a statement was unacceptable."

She laughed a little. "Kirk is hardly the person you need to worry about 'typical' and 'protocol' and those kinds of things with."

"I see." He tilted his head to the side, looking down ever so slightly as he thought the matter over.

"Good luck." She smiled, standing again to clear her tray.

"Luck is illogical." He stated primly, earning a wry smile.

"So is Kirk."

He raised both eyebrows in amusement and nodded to her. "Indeed. Also, if you are amendable, I might suggest another to assist you in maintaining the appearance of a casual relationship. It is perhaps too late at this juncture for it to be of use at this Starbase, as we are to be boarded in 21.4 minutes, but should you find yourself receiving unwelcome advances in the future, he may be of assistance."

"Yes?" Uhura raised an eyebrow of her own, curious. "Who?"

"Lieutenant Scott is a viable option, should you need such assistance."

"Why Scotty?" She frowned, already thinking on it.

"He is most likely to have the time to accompany you while simultaneously being an acceptable person aboard for you to have a relationship with. Further more, a relationship between you both is more likely to be seen as believable than any other officers in the crew."

"Oh really?" She smirked. "Why not Sulu? Or Giotto? Or McCoy?"

Spock almost smirked, aware that she had no real protests. "Lieutenant Sulu is likely to spend all of his available time in the botany labs or with Ensign Chekov, who you excluded from your query for obvious reasons. Mr. Giotto is…unsuitable. His preferences differ too greatly from your own to facilitate conversation. Dr. McCoy…"

She didn't snicker as he trailed off, clearly looking for a suitable remark that would not come across as insulting. Why he bothered, she didn't know.

Finally, his eyes sighed, an impressive feat as they were the only thing to indicate his resignation. "He harbors dissimilar predilections to your own, he is unlikely to assist you in such a deception, and, due to his nature, he is difficult to pry from his duties."

Uhura nodded, giving him a mischievous look. "How about Kirk then?"

"Unacceptable." She had barely finished his name before he rebuked the comment.

She was momentarily taken aback before frowning at him. "And why is that?"

"Not only would his reputation reflect poorly on you, but as your captain it is unacceptable for him to be engaged in romantic relations with you." He was taking slightly deeper breaths, illogically upset by her consideration of seeking Jim's aid in her ruse.

"I was joking, sorry. I'm aware of the regulations in regards to relationships for my position. Is there anyone he _can_ have a relationship with anyway? I don't know the regulations for Captains."

Spock shifted again. "It is unlikely. The procedure necessary for approval of a relationship aboard a starship is exceptionally elaborate with the intent of discouraging such a course of action. Further more, only two such relationships have been approved in Starfleet history."

"Really? Out of how many applications?"

"There have been approximately 732 applications for regards in concurrence with commanding officers maintaining relationships with active crewmembers. Apart from the two exceptions, all other relationships had been ordered to cease relations or face transfers of one or more participating parties to other, suitable starships."

She pursed her lips at that, frowning. "And the two couples who did receive approval?"

"One was a relationship between the Captain and Chief Medical Officer where in one member of the relationship was of a species that required the relations of their mate to survive. The other was a couple wed before their being stationed aboard the same starship, a Captain and his Commander."

"So they do favor officers' relations."

"Two exceptions can hardly be considered favorable." Spock chided.

She smiled, collecting herself to leave. "We should report to the ship. I'll see you in a while, Commander."

He nodded once and left, heading to the docking station to help oversee the personnel returning to the ship. There was a high likelihood of meeting the Captain there, presuming he had not disregarded protocol or encountered an emergency and already boarded. With a strange pause, he quickly recalculated the odds of finding his Captain there. There were surprisingly lower than they should be, but he continued anyway.

… .. .

"Hell's bells Jim!" Bones slapped his forehead.

"Really? 'Hell's bells'?" Jim laughed.

"Yes, Jim. Hell's bells. I can't believe you agreed to bring more of those point-eared bastards on our ship." He hissed in a conspiratorial tone.

Jim groaned, dropping his shoulders. "Oh come on Bones, what's so bad about a ferrying mission? How much trouble can I get into on that?"

"It isn't just about the trouble you can get into…"

"Oh come on." Jim put his hands on his hips, frowning. "I _know_ you aren't a xenophobe, so don't even pretend."

"This isn't about that." McCoy flushed a little. "They're just so damn emotionless."

"So it's a Vulcan problem." He snorted. "And an Orion problem, since you don't like promiscuity. And a-"

"Oh shut up." McCoy sighed, glaring down the younger man. "I'm allowed to have problems with people."

"Not when they're made up." Jim replied in singsong.

"What are we even doing escorting?" Bones ignored his statement. "I thought our mission was to explore space. 'Go where no man has gone before.' All that."

"With so many ships lost, we need to help as much as we can." Jim chastised.

There was an awkward moment of silence, not between them, but around them. They felt bad about the deaths, as any sane person would, but it wasn't in their nature to hold moments of silence for the dead. They were both the kind to _do_ something about the deaths and then throw one hell of a remembrance party. They'd already done both. It didn't make it less awkward sometimes.

"_Fine_." Bones said, voice tense. "But read the damn cultural brief so you don't end up starting a god damn war. The last thing I need is the headache of dealing with another Vulcan choking you half to death on the bridge."

"Me?" Jim said accusingly. "You're the one who likes to cause trouble."

McCoy gave him a suspicious glare. "If I'm a trouble maker, what exactly does that make you?"

"Bat-shit insane?"

McCoy didn't laugh, but it was a hard sell to try and convince the other man he wasn't amused. "In that case, maybe I should request we get a therapist on board."

At that, Jim froze, eyes going wide. Bones backtracked immediately, hurriedly apologizing. They had learned the hard way that Jim and therapists did not actually mix well. It didn't help that he couldn't discuss classified information with one. Nor did it help that there was a very real risk that, if he could, they would boot him out of Starfleet faster than Warp 10.

Lurching a little, Jim fought down the wave of nausea that thought produced. He _liked_ being in Starfleet. He didn't want to give it up for anything.

McCoy slapped his arm, catching his attention. He followed to point of his finger, and his eyes trailed to the sight of his first officer, bent over a console, speaking with a young ensign in blue who neither of them recognized. He wasn't sure, at first, what it was Bones wanted him to see. It took him a moment to realize the woman was visibly shaking. She was petrified.

He could understand a little where her fear was coming from. Spock was intimidating. He had a quiet way of ripping apart each and every piece of something you put good, hard work into. It was a bit hard to keep your stones about you when you were watching your efforts be eviscerated like wet tissue paper was the only thing holding it together.

He rolled his eyes at the smug 'see-they're-evil' look McCoy was giving him and decided to step in and save the poor girl. He said Spock was intimidating, not that he was intimidated.

"Spock!" Jim called happily, jogging over and slapping him on the shoulder.

"Captain." He responded politely, finishing looking over something, then glancing up.

"Shouldn't you be on the ship?" McCoy huffed, folding his arms.

"Ensign Bingham requested I look over a suspected error in the Starbase's systems before leaving."

Jim looked over at the relieved woman, and realized she was the girl from the night before, who had placed a hand on his back. He smiled a little.

"S-sir." She squeaked.

"Oh come on. It's Jim, Ms. Bingham." He winked, earning a harrumph from McCoy.

"D-Dorothy, sir…um…Jim." She flushed, staring down at her shoes.

Funny how people weren't so bold when he was actually giving them his full attention. He was a little sad to say he's often been approached by women looking for a good time, only for them to be intimidated by his outgoing personality. Bones said it was a load of crock and they were just too embarrassed by his shameless nature.

It occurred to him he had come over to rescue her, not make things worse.

"Is everything good, Spock?" Jim tried to lean over his shoulder and get a good look at the screen.

Spock stiffened, momentarily alarmed by the fact the Jim had seemingly randomly decided to press his _entire_ body against his back. "Captain."

Jim blinked at the coarse tone his commander used and turned his attention to him, only just realizing how close he was. "Yeah?"

"You instructed me to inform you when you were intruding upon my space. Now would be such a time." Jim was close enough to see the deep emerald spring to life in the tips of his Commander's ears.

Hu. Suddenly the color seemed awfully familiar. Not the bright green of grass, but a sweet, deep, dusty color of green, growing grain. Warm and not entirely unpleasant thoughts of Iowa sprang to mind. Thoughts of running wild through the fields, staying out as the sun set, feeling the cool brush of grain against his skin under the mid day sun and the raw, earthy taste of a green stock of wheat clenched between his teeth.

That was weird.

"Sorry." He flushed, pulling back. "So…uh…can we go?"

"I believe so, yes." Spock straightened himself, tugging at the edge of his shirt. "There appears to be nothing wrong, Ensign."

"Oh…Sorry to waste your time." She was a terrible shade of red and Jim wasn't so sure she wouldn't pass out any second.

"It is illogical to apologize. You were correct in voicing your concerns to someone better trained than yourself. I suggest speaking to you superior about the matter to instruct you towards the proper handling of unfamiliar sequences."

"Yes sir! Thank you sir!" She beamed, looking up at Spock and reddening worse.

Jim frowned and glanced at McCoy, who looked like he had swallowed a bee. Okay. So he wasn't the only one getting the idea that maybe Spock was a chick magnet when it came to the science department. More over, he suspected a bit of fabrication on the girl's part about there actually being a problem as an excuse to talk to Spock. That was…odd. She also thought Jim was cute…or at least blush worthy. Hmm…It was a shame Spock would probably freak out if he touched him again, because it would be so very interesting to see her reaction to being hugged by both of them.

On second thought, it would probably be easier to convince Spock to eat meat than hug that girl.

Instead, he draped a casual arm over Spock's shoulder and grinned. "We should probably get on board now, then."

McCoy snorted, and Jim turned to him, frowning. He realized a second too late that Spock had already told him to back off once. He yanked his arm back, flushing. Spock was regarding him with a weary look, as if he knew he shouldn't expect too much. The young ensign ran. Jim and McCoy exchanged a glance at her abrupt departure, and started laughing. Spock was watching them with one eyebrow raised.

"Captain? Doctor?" He inclined his head in what _appeared_ to be impatience. "We have approximately 2.3 minutes until the end of your requested boarding time."

"Yeah, yeah." Jim waved a bit, standing up straight again. "Sorry. Let's go."

Spock froze, eyes widening a bit. Jim pushed his golden hair back tilting his head with the motion. His red lips were opened in a wide, crooked grin, pearly teeth sharp and glinting with feral amusement. His cheeks were flushed from his laughter, darkening his skin. What stunned his first officer, however, was the way he was cast in relief by the bright lights of the hall.

For the briefest second they caught him perfectly, a drastic backlight that made him glow around the edges. Jim turned his eyes to Spock, the sharpest thing about him in the distortion of the light, a piercing blue that left Spock feeling utterly exposed. His heart missed a few dozen beats.

And with a surprised blink on Jim's part, it was over. "What?"

"Nothing. Captain." Spock inclined his head and quickly started for the ship.

It was nothing. He _wasn't_ struggling to fight down irrational embarrassment and he _hadn't_ been staring. There was nothing to stare about. And he hadn't been looking at Jim long enough for it to count as staring. Not that he was really looking. His heart wasn't racing, attempting to make up for the lost beats when his heart stopped, _because it didn't do that either._

Jim followed at a trot. Both of them missed the struck, confused look on McCoy's face. He wasn't sure what he had just saw, but there was defiantly something he was missing. First Jim, then Spock. They seemed to freeze up around each other. Great. Now he had another thing he had to worry about. At least they weren't throwing each other at walls?

… .. .

"Alright." Jim spoke cheerfully, tapping his hands on the conference table.

His bridge crew, with the additions of Scotty and Bones, were all seated around it, waiting patiently for him to explain what they were doing. He always did include Chekov, even though he wasn't an officer. Everyone was now boarded and the basic clearance things had been sorted out. All he had left to do was tell them about their new mission.

"Captain." Uhura interrupted, earning a frown.

"What?"

"I have that report you asked for." She handed him a PADD.

He glanced down at it in surprise, and scrolled through the first few pages, speed reading to see just what report it was. He didn't recall assigning her anything. As he read, color sprang to his cheeks and he groaned in defeat. Uhura was smirking at him, though no one else had any clue why. Kirk handed the PADD to Spock and sighed.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. That's just what I needed. A humiliating report on cultural practices involving _hands_." He hissed the last word through his teeth, hand covering his face.

"Just as you requested, Sir." She replied smugly.

Spock placed the PADD on the table at Jim's elbow and neatly folded his hands in front of him. "I believe we should continue with the briefing, Captain."

"Yes. Okay. Good idea." Jim shook his head, straightening out his thoughts. "We're heading to Dais III."

"Is not wery far, yes?" Chekov piped up, interested.

"Nope. About two weeks at Warp 3." Kirk agreed, grinning. "We'll be picking up a few scientists and taking them back to…uh…Spock, what's the proper name for that planet?"

He didn't flush at the snorts of amusement. Spock raised an eyebrow, silently asking how he managed to forget. That did make him flush, a guilty, apologetic look blooming across his face in accompaniment to a sheepish smile.

"Aphelion VI, Captain."

For a second, Jim wasn't sure anyone was breathing. "Sorry. I guess I got into the habit of calling it New Vulcan."

"A most illogical practice." Spock let his lips twitch through a tiny smirk. "Though not of particular consequence."

"Wait." Sulu caught everyone's attention, brow furrowed. "We're getting…Vulcan scientists?"

"That would be correct, Lieutenant Sulu." Spock raised and eyebrow, asking what was so important about that.

"I'll expect Ms. Uhura to provide a cultural report so everyone knows how to behave. I know last time wasn't the best experience…" Everyone winced, well…Spock raised his other eyebrow in a silent imitation of 'no shit Sherlock'. "But there's no need to be nervous."

"Of course, Captain." Uhura made a note to herself on the PADD in her lap.

"I'd also like to leave their rooming arrangements to you. Now…McCoy." Jim saw the man's eyes narrow, realizing he was about to share something he hadn't already told him. "They have a doctor accompanying them. I believe his name is M'Benga. He's all yours, but listen to him since he's an expert on Vulcan physiology."

"Oh? Why should I bother with him at all?" McCoy narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"He's human." Jim rolled his eyes. "You _should_ be able to get along with him without pretending to be less illogical."

The crew didn't chuckle at his indignant sound. Many of them did cover their smiles with a 'contemplative' hand over their mouth.

"And just how did a human become an expert on Vulcans?" He asked incredulously.

"Doctor M'Benga conducted his medical internship on Vulcan." Spock supplied easily, oddly a little smug.

"Crazy man." Bones muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. Louder, he said, "Fine. But if he starts telling me what to do I'm giving him Saurian Pox."

Jim rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Moving on. Mr. Chekov, I'd like you to make the announcement as soon as the meeting is over."

"Yes Keptin. I vill announce ariwal of Wulcan scientists and to read cultural report. Vhen vill it be ready?"

"I should have that done by tomorrow." Uhura offered. "I'm relatively familiar with Vulcan customs."

Jim felt a strange, jealous little glower in his chest at her words. Rather than dwell on the weirdness of it, he pushed it aside. "Mr. Spock, please go over her report after it's finished in case there is anything else you'd like to add."

Everyone looked at him with a jolt, surprised by the cold tone of voice. He ignored it, plowing right on through the meeting.

"Scotty, I assume you're going to be busy going over what they did in engineering, so I'll leave you to that. Just a heads up, I'm going to be poking around in the replicators a bit."

"Aye Cap'n. I trust ye not to do any damage to my…our girl."

Jim nodded. "Mr. Sulu, I'd like you to work with Mr. Spock on clearing up lab space for the experiments they're bringing on board. If nothing else we can set up a temporary facility in one of the cargo holds for some of the bigger items."

"Yes Captain."

"Is there anything any of you need to tell me?" Kirk looked them over, suspiciously. "No? Okay. Let's get out of here then."

Everyone stood easily, nodding and murmuring some version of yes. McCoy gave him a rather indignant glare as he headed out the door. Jim smiled, waving his fingers in amusement. With a sigh, he collapsed back into the seat, rubbing at his face.

"Captain?"

"Holy Fucking SHIT!" Jim yelped, tumbling from his seat.

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. "I have noticed you tend only to use vulgarities when startled from your thoughts or suffering from rampant emotionalism. It was not my intent to alarm you."

Jim struggled back up into his seat. "It's fine. I just hadn't realized you didn't leave. Did you need something?"

Spock hesitated. They were about to undertake a mission. They were supposed to be reporting to the bridge for their shift. It was illogical to delay necessary work with discussions of a personal nature. Surely, it could wait until there shift had ended.

He found that he simply did not wish to. An illogical impatience was pressing at him, demanding he act now. Try as he might, he could not repress the small, human impulse. Oddly, he didn't feel disquieted by that fact. It was far too emboldening, thrilling, to fall to Vulcan sensibilities. A small, semi-rational part of himself insisted that wasting time was illogical. By that device, it would be imperative to speak with Jim before their shift, as he was provided the opportunity now.

An odd thought, reminding him that the briefing room was soundproof so outsiders would not hear important details, flitted through the back of his mind.

"Spock?" Jim's tone took on a worried timber. "Is something wrong?"

"No, Captain." Spock inclined his head. "There is something I wish to discuss, though I am unsure how to approach it."

Jim flashed a nervous smile, a little baring of his teeth. "Okay. Well, you know my opinion on these matters."

"Captain?"

"Jim." He reminded quickly, then felt a wave of heat across his face as he realized he was becoming used to that manner of address from his First Officer. "And I tend to rush headlong into things."

"Indeed." Spock's eyes danced with amusement.

Jim laughed, a soft, almost confused laugh, trailing off in the heavy air between them. "So? Shoot."

Spock's eyebrow twitched. "Very well. I…wish to pursue a friendship with you."

Jim went very still, eyes widening and any trace of amusement wiped from his face. Were it not for the blatant fear in his eyes, Spock would be impressed by the perfectly blank look he was receiving. He felt an unusual, sinking feeling that seemed most appropriate to associate with his heart. It was illogical, as he knew for a fact that none of his organs had shifted from where they belonged. It was there though and, he found, accompanied by a tightness in his throat.

He stood quickly. "I apologize. It was presumptuous of me to request such. I assure you I will not allow this to interfere with my work."

"What? Wait!" Jim broke from his stunned moment of silence, jumping up from his seat with enough force to knock it over.

"It is clear you do not desire a personal relationship." Spock's voice was tense, his throat refused to relax enough for his voice to appear normal. "I will not make this mistake again."

Spock thought he didn't want to be his friend. Jim's heart leapt into his throat. "No! No, you've got it all wrong! I want to be your friend!"

Spock stilled, facing away from him. "It is unnecessary for you to force yourself to spend extended periods of time in my presence if that is not your desire. I have no need of you sparing my 'feelings'."

This wasn't working at all. Jim felt the bottom of his stomach drop out as Spock made to leave the room. He didn't believe him. He wouldn't believe him. Jim had to prove it, he just did. He couldn't let this, _him_, walk away. He couldn't. If he did, he wasn't so sure he'd be able to pick himself back up.

So he did the one thing he knew he shouldn't. The one thing he had promised himself he wouldn't. The only thing he knew how to.

He grabbed Spock's hand, tugging him back to face him, and lunged forward. For a split second he saw the wild, surprised, fearful look in those brown eyes before he close his own. His momentum didn't give him a chance to think it over as he pressed his lips to Spock's.

Spock went ridged, acutely aware first of the warm, calloused hand in his own, long overworked fingers stroking against his. The flood of emotion accompanying them was incomprehensible. A brief, stray thought wondered how impossibly hot his Captain must be to register as warm against his skin. All at once, he felt the chapped, hard press of Jim's lips, the deep buzz of his emotions numbing the skin while simultaneously making it hypersensitive. He caught only a flash of grey green eyes, horrifyingly, unnaturally devoid of any blue, before Jim snapped his eyes shut and he saw only cream colored skin and golden lashes.

His gut twisted in a sick, painful twinge of realization. His friendship meant nothing to Jim. _Kirk_ was simply making a conquest of him, as so many others had attempted to do. People approaching him, all his life, always wanting something. Provoking him. Attempting to gain some notoriety by accomplishing their goal. People attempting to befriend him to tell everyone they pushed past his Vulcan exterior. People attempting to speak with him just to prove they were unafraid. Kirk, attempting to add him to the chronicles of his prowess.

He pushed his Captain from him, hard. Jim fell backwards, slamming into the table. A sharp pain rang through his hip where it hit the cold metal. His eyes were wide, focused on Spock, who allowed a single moment of pure loathing to cross his face. Not a second later, he was presented with the back of a glossy black bowl cut. He sprang back to his feet from being half sprawled across the table and raced after the retreating figure.

"Spock! Wait! I'm sorry!" His leg spasmed with pain as he raced after the other man, who was making a bee-line for the bridge. "Please let me explain!"

Spock stormed onto to bridge, earning looks from everyone, interrupting their settling in. Jim race in just after him.

"Spock! Please! Wait!" He cringed, aware that everyone was watching now.

Spock stilled, very precisely turning around to face him. His face was a careful mask. There was no anger, or loathing, or anything to find there, perfect stone. His eyes were the worst part, devoid of everything, an inscrutable color that meant absolutely nothing.

His voice wasn't cold, or hot, the perfect tone to convey nothing, which said everything necessary. "I believe there has been some miscommunication between us, Captain. I am not, nor shall I ever be your friend."

If anyone other than Jim inhaled sharply at that, he couldn't hear it over the sudden stillness of his heart beat, ripped from his ears violently by those words. His legs suddenly felt weak. He stumbled back, towards the door.

"You have the Conn." His voice shook, but he couldn't care less, the words coming out broken.

A second later he was gone from the bridge, running in spite of the pain in his leg and the sudden fatigue the seemed to blossom through him. He needed away. He needed Bones.

… … .. . .. … …

…

**Just so you know, I'm not foisting Uhura off into some other relationship. It'll have a logical reason for those considerations to be there. And they will be important to the story.**


	14. Chapter 14

…**Don't own.**

**It hadn't really occurred to me that I left it on a cliff hanger...even though that was technically what I was going for...I guess? Sorry all the same.**

… … .. . .. … …

The bridge was carefully silent, eyes cautiously trained on their commander. The collective breaths of the room barely stirred the air, everyone waiting for something to crack. Stiffly, with no more movement than necessary, Spock stepped to the Captains chair and took a stilted seat. The small motion was the final, shuddering earthquake that brought about an eruption of emotion.

"What was that just now?" Uhura didn't raise her voice, but succeeded in imbuing it with intense emotion.

Sulu's voice rang out even as she was finishing her sentence. "I thought you two were trying to _fix_ your problems with each other."

"This matter concerns none of you." Spock said insipidly, eyes flicking down to the front station. "We will be departing now, Lieutenant Sulu. Commence exit procedures."

Sulu hesitated, eyes darting around the bridge, looking for someone to instruct him further. When he didn't find it, he turned slowly towards his station. Chekov's hand flitted out, halting his reach for the controls.

"Net! Is wery bad if the Keptin und Kommander hawe had disagreements. Ve vill be vith vorrying. Explazingz vill be in order." Chekov didn't flinch under the stony look he received.

"Cease your interferences, Ensign Chekov, or you will be confined to the brig."

Sulu snapped back around at that. "Hey! Don't take it out on him! He's right. We can't operate right with what just happened on our mind."

"They're right." Uhura added quickly, standing. "That looked serious. I know I won't be able to concentrate."

"It was a personal matter, and therefore not available for scrutiny." Spock stood quietly. "Any further acts of mutiny will receive appropriate countermeasures. Lieutenant Sulu, commence exit procedures."

The bridge was very silent as Sulu turned back around, a blatantly bitter look on his face. Uhura remained standing, watching Spock tensely.

"Ensign Chekov, make your announcements now."

"Yes…Kommander." Chekov turned back to his station, pouting.

Uhura fumed, never one to give up so easily. "Commander, permission to speak to you in private?"

Spock sat back down. "There is a 98.3 percent chance you wish to discuss the interactions between the Captain and I. Return to your post."

She gritted her teeth. "If I return to my post, I'm requesting Dr. McCoy's presence on the bridge to assess your ability to command."

"Unnecessary." He seemed completely unfazed by the prospect, watching the process of leaving the starbase with detached ease.

"I'm not so sure of that. _I_ still remember what happened the last time you two fought." Uhura hissed.

Spock turned his head to her, slowly. His eyes were unreadable. With a swish of her ponytail, she crossed her arms and prepared herself to dig the last knife in and twist.

"Did you panic, because Kirk was being too emotional? Did you push your anger on him? Did you hurt him, like last time?"

"Stop!" Spock stood, voice a little loud, eyes flashing with hurt. "You can not understand what he has done. It does not matter. It will not affect my work."

He looked down, away from her, away from the crew. They were tense, watching him in confusion. Finally, the only one socially stupid enough to have the bravery necessary to break the silence, spoke up.

"Vhat has Keptin done is so horrible?" Chekov mumbled, looking put upon. "Ve are vith Kommander on prablem, da?"

"I wish to have no undue effects on your performance with the Captain."

"It wouldn't be undue." Sulu pointed out. "If he's done something wrong, we should know about it."

"I…do not believe he has done anything outside of the standard deviation of human behavior. My reaction was, though blunt, not unnecessary. It is not inconceivable, and is indeed likely, that the Captain's reaction was due to not anticipating my own."

"Not outside the norm?" Uhura asked skeptically. "What was so normal about his behavior that you would blow off any possibility of friendship?"

Spock gave her a pleading look, though his face remained impassive. No one spoke, waiting on his answer. He closed his eyes and stilled himself. It was illogical to be embarrassed by these occurrences. It was illogical to be embarrassed by his past. It had become clear that refusing to answer would make bridge work exceedingly difficult, as they had proven themselves adamant on the matter.

He straightened himself, intent on presenting a strong, undaunted front. "The Captain was…less than honest in his pursuits of my friendship."

Most of the bridge looked confused. Chekov gasped in horror, hands flying to his mouth. Uhura froze, something familiar in those words filling her blood with cold ice.

"Net! No! He vould not! Vould he?" Chekov whimpered. "Vhen in Academy, I suffer from attentions vith intent of prowing capable of approaching me. People laugh and joke they could make me tink I vas popular, but leawe and tell friends."

By the end of his little speech, Chekov was staring at Spock in horror. Sulu's hands were fisted tight, his teeth gritted and his eyes focused on Chekov. Uhura had connected the dots, between Spock's past, and the Captain's.

"That scumbag." She hissed, earning surprised looks from the entire bridge for voicing the thought everyone was having.

"Lieutenant." Spock said sharply.

"I know." She replied quickly. "I'm sorry. I won't have another outburst like that again. It is our duty to behave professionally. Personally though…I think I've made my opinion known."

"Do not let this affect you." Spock told them all, stern. "I have not, and would find it most helpful if you did not either. He is still our Captain."

"Yes sir." The bridge resounded firmly.

"Return to your posts. We are underway." Spock sat back down, struggling to contain the trembling in his hands.

He had not wanted to do that. It reflected poorly on the Captain. As he was beginning to understand, this development would cause tension on the bridge. It would have been wiser to deal with it privately. Perhaps a transfer would have been in order. He knew, though, that he had irreparably damaged the Captains reputation in the eyes of his crew. It was a selfish, cruel move. In light of Chekov's painful concession, he was not unsure it was so inappropriate.

How many others was the Captain deceiving in an attempt to cultivate some false relationship with them?

How many others would the Captain injure by abusing their trust?

… .. .

McCoy didn't glance up from his desk as a flash of gold entered the room. He was prepping PADDs, setting up for the influx of passengers. That involved a mess of vaccines for the people currently on board and physicals for all of the people coming on board.

"What do you need Jim?"

"I don't suppose you have the ingredients for a Finagle's Folly?" Jim's voice broke.

McCoy snapped his head up, eyes falling to his friend. Jim was gaunt, red eyes sunken and his body shaking. McCoy waved him gently into a chair and made to reach for a tricorder. Jim caught his hand, shaking his head. His grip was tight, knuckles turning white with the force he held the other man. Bones, knelt beside his friend, trying to look up into the evasive blue eyes.

"That's quite a prescription Jim." His joke felt flat. "What happened that you'd want to drink something that bad?"

"I-fuck-I really fucked this up." Jim barked, voice a hoarse imitation of amusement.

Bones reached up carefully, patting Jim on the shoulder. "What?"

Jim gulped, squeezing his eyes shut. "I got in over my head."

"Jim…"

"I panicked." Jim laughed, like it were the most ironic thing in the universe. "He told me he wanted to try to be friends, and I panicked. I freaked out. I didn't answer him and…and he thought I didn't want…and I panicked."

"Oh Jim." McCoy whispered gruffly. "Tell me you didn't."

"I…I didn't mean to. I just…I didn't want him to walk off." Jim whimpered. "I didn't know what to do. I panicked."

McCoy sighed, standing up and turning to his desk. He retrieved a bottle from inside and a couple of glasses.

"This isn't therapeutic." McCoy warned. "I shouldn't let you drink."

Jim gave him a grateful look. "I can worry about therapeutic later. Right now…I need to get this out of my head."

"How bad was it, exactly?" McCoy frowned pouring them each a glass of bourbon.

"I…He was facing away from me, leaving. I caught his hand and I…I kissed him."

"Oh eugh," McCoy made a face at his friend, swallowing a mouthful of bourbon. "That's just wrong."

"Yeah…" Jim grimaced, gulping down his own drink. "It felt so weird."

"I bet." McCoy laughed.

"Seriously!" He groaned. "Every time I look at him I'm going to have that in my head. His lips were so stiff, and hot."

"I think I just threw up a bit." McCoy warned him. "I know you think laughter is the best way to get over everything, but this isn't something you can just…ignore. And I don't want to hear that kind of stuff."

"No, but I can get drunk enough that by morning it'll just be a horrifying, vague memory." Jim downed the remainder of his glass and stared imploringly at his best friend.

With a sigh, he downed his own and refilled both glasses. "What did he do after?"

"Stormed onto the bridge and said he'd never be my friend, in front of everyone." The blond mumbled, swirling his drink around.

"Oh? Great. So you're just here to say the big mean Vulcan hurt your feelings?"

"Bones." Jim sighed. "Therapy later."

"Fine. Fine." The doctor waved the bottle at him. "Drink up, because I can't afford to get drunk right now."

"Thank god. I'll need someone to administer the hypo later to make my head stop hurting."

… .. .

Jim wasn't pleasantly drunk. Which was a shame. McCoy had insisted that he get hypoed before he head off to bed, which meant much of the effects were diminished. So, being host to a rather unpleasant haze, he stumbled back to his room, thankful for the relative time of night that left the halls mostly empty. His eyes lingered on the door to Spock's room only a moment before stumbling into his room.

He'd never really like the damn thing. If it were up to him, he'd keep it empty. Instead, he had a bookcase filled with literature given to him by impressed political figures and not so charming dignitaries. The 'souvenirs' were pieces of junk that had absolutely no importance for him, but looked good when he had to take comms in his room. The chess set was a gift from his family that he'd never even bothered really learning how to use. Never even won a game.

They laughed at him, the other occupants of his room, reminders that even in the stars he couldn't just be himself. He wasn't free.

He gritted his teeth and ordered the room into absolute darkness. Stumbling through the dark and stubbing his toe a couple of times, he undressed and threw himself into his bed, nightclothes be damned.

… .. .

Spock sat in the darkness of his room, legs crossed, hands making the intricate form necessary for deep meditation.

The crew had been nothing if not understanding. Upon his request, the bridge told no one else of what transpired between him and the Captain. He suspected that would slow the rumors by a couple days.

If he wished to display the cool, professional demeanor he insisted he was capable of, he would need meditation. Doing that would curb the unnecessary pity the crew seemed inclined to offer him. He was not unused to such deceptions. He was not so fragile as to be damaged by the Captain's actions. He was capable of behaving professionally. He did not need a less than professional relationship with the Captain, and was puzzled that he had even thought he would desire one.

Clearly he had not done a proper, deep meditation in some time.

Every time he attempted to meditate on the encounter, he was met with a rush of emotions, the foremost being that loathsome, hollow lust. He would immediately push himself from the thoughts, and his meditation. It made focusing on any meditation at all exceedingly difficult. With a firm push, he sealed the briefing room incident in a corned of his mind, to possibly be investigated when it no longer angered him so. Or to be forgotten and 'left to turn into a tumor' as humans often described of their troublesome thoughts.

A bemusing turn of phrase to say the least.

Human also prescribed an unwarranted amount of emphasis on naming things. Once it was named, it became important and impossible to disregard.

In that light…it was simply _a_ incident. Not _the_ incident. And most definitely not the briefing room incident. Simply one incident.

Meditation.

Deep, warm thoughts. Memories of Vulcan. The feel of his barriers. Calmness. The control he held so easily when so many others had done far worse. Surakian logic. He would find focus in the old teachings. Ridged application would guide him, force him back into the comfort of his Vulcan ways. There was no pain, no embarrassment, no regret, no anger, simply logic and knowledge. Knowledge of past and present, logic to predict the moves ahead, into the future.

No uncertainty, forcing him along an undetermined path. No choosing without a process. Split second calculations and decisions based in logic. Because logic could be proven right or wrong. Logic could be compared, intelligence measured. So called 'heart' could not.

How could one prove their emotions were of greater importance? Greater validity? How could one prove themself by emotion?

Meditation. Logic. Devoid of emotion. Devoid of something immeasurable. An unnecessary parameter. A precipitate in the solution.

He needed only the solution. Emotion was a precipitate, not a catalyst. He had no need of emotion, therefore he repressed it. He had no emotion. No precipitate. No unnecessary parts, left in the solution at the end of the reaction. No imperfections. No remainders of something unwanted, not worth documenting. He was the solution, simply the logical outcome of a measurable reaction.

He was Vulcan.

… .. .

It was too early to be on the bridge. Gamma shift was still at their stations, and would be for another two hours. Jim knew it wasn't helping having him pace the bridge. He poured over their work, offering cheep smiles and words of encouragement. No one asked any questions, but that didn't mean they didn't know. He didn't really care either way.

It wasn't until his regular crew slunk in that he realized he'd barely gotten any sleep and hadn't eaten since lunch the previous day.

They were eyeing him, silent looks bleeding accusation as they took their stations. Jim sat silent, not bothering to greet them, just looking over the PADD he had been working on since he got up. It was a list of Starfleet regulations. He was re-reading through them, though he'd long since memorized them…mostly…in the academy. Over the top of his PADD, he watched them settle in and go over what had happened while they were off shift.

"Ensign Chekov, report." Jim called hollowly, voice stringing the tension of the bridge tight.

Chekov hesitated, gritting his teeth. "Ve are on course, Keptin. No adjustment are currently being necessary."

Jim noted the tone and filed it away. It didn't matter. "Lieutenant Sulu, report."

"Holding steady, Captain. Currently traveling at Warp 3." He didn't hesitate as much, but his tone was the most professional it had been since he fell off of a certain drill.

"Increase speed to Warp 5."

There was a quiet moment of confusion on the bridge. "Captain?"

"You heard me Lieutenant."

"Sir, anything above Warp 4 is generally reserved for emergencies and crucial deliveries."

"I'm aware of that. You don't consider delivering much needed supplies and scientists to be worthy of Warp 5?" Jim didn't snap, or sound amused, just a blank, challenging sound.

"…Proceeding to Warp 5, sir."

"Lieutenant Uhura, report."

"There are currently no transmissions incoming. Everything sounds normal, Captain."

"Progress on your briefing?"

She bit her lip, glancing back at him to see him still reading his PADD. "Almost finished, Captain. It should be available by lunch."

"See that it's finished by O-one hundred. Ensign Chekov, make the announcement when you've returned from your meal."

"Yes Keptin."

"Commander Spock, report." He didn't trip over the words, though they were heavy in his mouth.

The entire bridge coiled, as if readying themselves for an imminent fight. Spock didn't turn from his station, or even look up, hands still flying over the console with ease.

"All scans are normal, Captain." Spock's voice had no inflection. "Reports indicate that all experiments are currently in order."

"Commander Spock, Lieutenant Sulu, turn your stations over to your immediate reliefs. I want you overseeing making room for the experiments they will be bringing aboard. If you have questions about the content of those experiments, differ to Lieutenant Uhura."

"Yes Captain." They said in time, standing from their seats and leaving the bridge.

Jim was staring down at his PADD when they left. The bridge was mostly silent. He'd had a suspicion, and was looking into it. It had been a while since he completed his writing courses, but he was pretty sure he remembered how to do his paperwork. Which is why he knew he shouldn't have been getting requests from Starfleet to fill out 'missing' documents. If he was positive on the regulations, and knew for sure they were asking for extra documentation, he could handle it.

He would have asked Spock, but the man had already been aware of his workload before the briefing room incident.

He actually suspected Spock was partially to blame for the extra work. He hadn't started receiving requests for additional documents until after the second mission. Two specimen gathering missions and suddenly they wanted extra details on everything? No. Just no. As it was, he was pretty sure they were asking for extra already, just not the max they could.

It wouldn't do much good to ask Spock about it now. Not that it would have done much good previously either.

He didn't really notice when the others on the bridge left to take their lunch, only that when they came back, Spock and Sulu were with them. He turned off the PADD and tossed it to a Yeoman, turning to go.

"You have the Conn. Commander." The crew watched him leave.

He made a bee-line for Scotty's domain, ignoring the few looks he received in the halls. So word was starting to spread. So what?

Scotty looked up at him in surprise from where he was sitting on a bulkhead. He was downing a sandwich with the usual gusto, a pile of blueprints laid out to his side. It was nice to see that he was actually going over the work that was done.

"Aye Cap'n. Anything I can do for ye?"

"Nah." Jim shrugged. "Just wanted to know which replicator would be best to work on to stay out of the way and make the changes available in all the others."

"Oh, aye I see. Any should do. Ye can jus patch in later once ye'v got 'er finished." Scotty nodded firmly, eyeing him.

"Cool. Thanks." Jim agreed absentmindedly. "I'll just get to that then."

"Something bothering ye Cap'n?" Scotty interrupted.

"Always the observant one." Jim laughed. "Don't worry about it. There'll still be sandwiches."

"Cap'n." He said sternly, patting the bulkhead next to him.

Jim sighed, sitting down. "It really isn't important."

"You let me be the judge of that yeah?" Scotty set his sandwich aside.

"I…I'm not going to go into a lot of detail. I just won't." Jim warned him. "The thing is…I…Me and Spock had a misunderstanding."

"Ye and the Comm'nder?" Scotty sighed. "What happened this time?"

"He…well he said he wanted to try and be friends with me and…I guess I panicked a bit. I didn't answer right away and he thought that was a no and then I tried to…well, prove that I did and…he misinterpreted what I did. He got pretty angry at me." Jim grunted to signal the finish of his little speech.

"Language is a funny thing Cap'n." Scotty nodded. "Let him have his time and he'll let ye explain it eventually."

"Yeah…no." Jim snorted. "That isn't going to happen. He's a Vulcan. He'd drawn his conclusions about me already and if he wouldn't let me 'add data' then he won't let me later. For people who don't have any emotions they sure do hold a grudge."

Scotty rolled his eyes at the air quotes and picked his sandwich back up. The Commander wasn't the only one who could hold a grudge. Maybe this time it was a bit more serious than their usual fights, but eventually they were either going to end up on different ships, or as good friends.

"Have you…have you been hearing things?" Jim asked tentatively.

"Jus whispers, Cap'n." Scotty shrugged. "People sayin' ye and him are in a fuss again."

"Oh. Well…yeah." Jim stood wearily. "You probably haven't heard near as much as everyone else, hu? Seeing as you're always down here."

Scotty shrugged. "Maybe."

… .. .

Sequestering himself in his room probably wasn't the most mature thing to do, but as he had access to a replicator there, it certainly worked for him. Tinkering always was his favorite thing. Whenever he got frustrated, or angry, he found it immensely soothing to sit down with pages of code and do as he pleased.

Now Jim sat cross-legged on his floor, his desk computer open to a recipe book, and the PADD in his lap connected to the replicator. He had a second opened to the downloaded specifications of the available food already in the replicator's memory system. He had always bemoaned the low selection of food choices. Worse, most of them were fairly poor tasting.

On that note, he had another PADD open with programming codes to make a variety of new ingredients available.

With a little of his own ingenuity, he would no doubt have something passable in the way of food. That was where the recipes came in. Once he had programmed the ingredients, he would have to sequence them to actually make food. He was also making a separate programming so he could eat whole apples, damn it. And not just those lime green ones that tasted like blueberries that somehow ended up programmed in a lot of the replicators at the Academy.

He hadn't been responsible for that.

He'd been nibbling at pieces of newly programmed food, attempting to reconcile what he had created with what is was _supposedly_ supposed to taste like, for a few hours. It hadn't helped that much of what he was programming were things he had never eaten.

Most of the ingredients were passable when a loud, inescapable yawn demanded his attention. His jaw popped in agreement and he rubbed tiredly at it, looking for the time on his computer. Almost eleven by the ship's clock. He should have been in bed thirty minutes ago. He closed out the programs and shut his computer down, making sure the PADDs saved the altered data. He kicked off his shoes and crawled on top of the bed not bothering to strip or pull the blankets up.

… .. .

The upside of being up early was that Jim was getting a bit better at placing the faces of his Gamma crew with their names. He'd always felt a bit remise about that. He'd managed to struggle down a bagel for breakfast, and was sitting casually on the floor of the bridge, leaning back against the Captain's chair. He had a PADD open to the cultural report on Vulcans. Most of it was the usual 'DO NOT TOUCH'.

That kind of warning always kind-of made him want to touch. Not that he was going to this time.

There were a couple of small things he didn't know. Mostly details about Vulcan family structures. Also, he found some interesting information on the childrearing practices. Useful, since apparently they were going to have a few children on board.

The best part of Gamma shift was that they had a little less interaction with the rest of the crew so, aside from being closely knit, they didn't catch the rumors as fast.

That said, he didn't like the fact that they felt so excluded. He was going to look into a shift rotation system so everyone got a chance at Gamma or Beta shift. Unfortunately, he needed his main crew on Alpha. But he could arrange to mix up the relief crew on duty. First, he had to finish reading the forty page brief stressing 'DO NOT TOUCH'. It's funny how he could complete the same damn thing in three words. At least then he'd be sure everyone would read the whole thing. Maybe even change the color of the font for the word 'not' to stress it a bit more.

"We're…uh…well…"Jim's head snapped up to see the Gamma shift pilot staring at him.

"Yeah?" Jim prompted.

"We're real glad to have you down here, sir." The man blushed, glancing at the other crew members, who had obviously prompted him.

"Thanks. I like being down here." Jim flashed them a crooked half-smile.

The man beamed. "Well, it's just. We never get to really see you, and sometimes we can't help but wonder if maybe we're missing something. We don't even know what to believe when we do get chances to talk to everyone else."

Jim frowned. "You know, I was just thinking about that. What do you guys think of shift rotations? I'm a bit worried they'd make a standard sleep schedule impossible."

They all exchanged surprised glances. "Well…it might take a few weeks to get used to, but a flex schedule wouldn't be so bad…"

"Hm. Yeah. I didn't think about that." Jim set the PADD aside crossing his arms as the thought it over. "If I offset the shifts by an hour or so whenever there was a new crew rotating through, it would make it a bit more bearable…The time would have to be pretty fluid, but I could probably set the computers to keep it calculated. That way people wouldn't be making huge time jumps, but slowly shifting a few hours every day or something."

"How would that work for Alpha shift?"

"Hm?" Jim snapped his head up, having almost forgotten they were still there. "Oh. Well, the officers and main crew would still follow a ridged schedule, but the back crew would be more fluid. Relief and under positions would trade off during Alpha shift…with the main crew still being on."

"So some shifts we'd be delegated to relief positions, rather than standard control positions?" The back up navigator asked.

"Yeah…would that be a problem?"

"No!" Many of the crew agreed at once. The pilot grinned sheepishly. "It'd actually be a huge load off of our shoulders."

"Okay then." Jim nodded. "I'll see what I can do about it. I'll have to do a bit more looking into it, but I may be able to set something up."

"Thank you, sir." The crew mumbled, overwhelmed by the generosity of their Captain.

Jim nodded forcefully and returned to the brief. Page seventeen: 'DO NOT TOUCH'. This was going to be a very long day.

… .. .

He hadn't bothered getting up from the floor when Alpha crew came in. They didn't look too pleased to see him, but he didn't really care. Another half shift or so of the arctic conditions on the bridge, and he'd head off. He was still on the floor once everyone settled in and the last of Gamma shift had bid him goodbye.

"Lieutenant Sulu, report."

"…Traveling at Warp 5."

"Ensign Chekov, report."

"Ve are still on the course."

"ETA?"

"…Ah…iz wun veek and quarter."

"…Lieutenant Uhura. Report."

"No incoming transmissions…There was one message left for you by the Admiralty."

"Already got it." He waved his PADD in the air, still looking at it. "How are the rooming arrangements coming?"

"Almost finished Captain." She sighed. "We've decided to allocate observation deck three to their teaching purposes."

"We?"

"Commander Spock and I."

"Ah. Make sure the crew knows it's going to be off limits. Commander Spock, report."

"All experiments are in order, all scans normal, Captain. Arrangements have been made for the incoming experiments and should be finished by the end of the week."

Still frosty. Perfect. Not all that surprising. If he wanted strict professionalism, Jim could handle that. This was the quietest his bridge had ever been. He kind of missed the excitement of even the Nero incident, because then at least the air was charged. And not just with the subtle chill of a group of people who hated his guts.

Page forty: 'DO NOT TOUCH'…'unless given explicit permission.'

Story of his life.

… … .. . .. … …

…**Sorry if this chapter seems to be going through a lot of time. It'll slow down again in a bit.**


	15. Chapter 15

…**Not owning.**

… … .. . .. … …

People were officially giving Jim dirty looks as he walked through the halls. Well that was just charming. He'd just left the bridge, since it was lunch time. Not that he was headed to the canteen. That's where the rest of his crew was. He was going to his room to do more work on his pet project.

It was about half way through lunch when he discovered he had been missing a crucial part of his coding.

He attempted to replicate one of his newer items and was met with the unfortunate tidal wave of warm liquid. It seems bowls were actually required if he wanted it to be edible, and not just painful. The soup he had been making was a bit warm, something he would have to remember to fix once he got back from Sickbay.

Sickbay, because when it had no bowl to put the soup in, the replicator spewed boiling liquid over his arm and face.

He entered the near abandoned medical deck to the obscene shouts of his best friend.

"If you don't shut up I'll leave the burns to scar."

"I was simply explaining your short comings in bedside manner, Doctor."

Jim froze. Crap. Spock. Wait…Spock was hurt? Jim hurried forward, trying not to look worried. Spock was seated on a bio bed, McCoy running a dermal regenerator over his face and shoulder.

His entire left side was a spider web of dark green blood and flesh. If he thought about it, Jim could connect the burn pattern on his chest, forearm, shoulder, and face down to the correct spindly lines. Most of the lines on his chest and forearm had dimmed to pale green scars that would disappear in a day. The ones on his face and shoulder were still healing, not yet that far along. He sucked in a sharp breath, eyes widening.

"What happened?"

McCoy and Spock both snapped their heads up to him. Spock immediately looked away, but Bones hissed looking closer.

"Now you're burned too?"

"Don't worry about it." Jim ordered. "What happened?"

"An experiment went awry. The terminal monitoring it overloaded and short circuited while I was attempting to correct the error." Spock was staring somewhere over his shoulder, pretending to look at him.

"When did this happen? Is anyone else hurt?"

"The incident occurred approximately ten minutes ago. No other personnel were injured."

"Why wasn't I alerted?" Jim snapped, feeling just a touch of pain at having not been told someone got hurt.

"You were unavailable."

Jim winced. Where _had_ he left his communicator? What if there had been an actual emergency? He shouldn't have told the computer to withhold his position from inquiries. Because he had, he'd been unavailable and no one could tell him someone got hurt.

"It won't happen again."

"What have you done to yourself?" McCoy yelped, still eyeing him as he finished with the dermal regenerator. "Those look like liquid burns."

"Ah." Jim glanced down at his hand, the immense pain returning with an angry pulse. "Yeah. Kind of hurts."

"Chapel!" Bones hollered.

She peeked her head out from some side alcove and spotted Jim immediately. With a eye roll, she hurried out with a dermal regenerator and a tricorder, ushering him into another bio bed. She ran the tricorder over him, watching the small tremors of pain that caused him to shiver in agony. With a frown, she stabbed him with a hypo.

"Shit! Chapel!" Jim yelped. "What was in that?"

"Pain killers." She responded immediately, setting to work on healing him. "These are almost third degree burns."

McCoy snapped his head around to look over at him, scowling in his direction. Spock gave him a quick, calculating look. He had completely disregarded such serious wounds when faced with a possible emergency. His concern for his crew took priority over his health.

He forced his eyes away.

Kirk was still not trustworthy. He had been right from the start of this mission. He was immature and not ready for such an undertaking. Perhaps he would suggest such to the Admiralty. Until he had gotten over his selfish nature and cruel tendencies, he could not be trusted with the future undertakings that would be required of the Federation's flagship. Spock could not afford to forget that in a minor moment of maturity on the other man's part.

"Get out of here." McCoy whispered icily, finished with the medical procedure.

He had been nothing but cold and professional to Spock when he came in. It was quick and unfriendly, but effective. Interesting, that the volatile man should be so distant and quiet when enraged. Obviously he would side with his close friend, but Spock had assumed the man would be insufferable. It seemed he was not incapable of professionalism, as Kirk was.

Invariably, he had made a rather scathing remark about being too stupid and stubborn to use his brain. Thus prompting the comment from Spock shortly before Kirk's entry.

Spock stood and pulled on the new shirts provided to him. McCoy was already lowering the temperature back to the comfortable norm for humans. He didn't glance back over his shoulder as he left, though he could hear the labored breaths of James Kirk, echoing in his ears in a familiar symphony. The doors to Sickbay slid shut with a forceful silence. His presence was required on the bridge.

… .. .

Jim swore to himself, finally sitting back and rubbing his eyes. Why was programming plates and bowls and such the hard part? And who the hell really cared how good it looked on a plate? Apparently he had to actually worry about the placement of the items if he didn't want them to just be a goopy pile. Fortunately he had bothered to read into that, so he didn't have a plethora of failed attempts on his hands.

Literally, as had been the case with the soup earlier.

Ah research. There was nothing better if you wanted things to go right. Even the great James T. Kirk was not above opening a few manuals and textbooks to figure things out. Learning was a good thing, distracting, focusing. Funny how those two things could coincide.

The last time he put this much thought into coding had been the subroutine in the Kobayashi Maru.

Okay. That was enough programming for the night. Sleep. It was already after eleven.

He fought down the dull ache in his chest. Eventually, he'd get over it and be able to look at Spock without feeling like something had been ripped out of his chest. It was making it difficult to work on the bridge, being unable to look anywhere but the PADD in his lap. He could feel the constant looks of anger sliding over him. He could have attempted to explain, but he didn't have it in him.

How could Spock do that? How could he have told everyone…something…what ever it was that had them so angry? He could understand where Spock was coming from, but turning his crew against him? That was low.

McCoy had told him that the rumors had made their way to Sickbay. Chapel was keeping quiet about if she was picking sides, though he didn't doubt she favored the hobgoblin. No one was allowed to discuss the issues though, not even McCoy, by way of executive gag order. Frankly, he didn't want to hear people talking about it all day and had made Sickbay an official gossip free zone. Jim was thankful for that.

… .. .

It was a good thing Jim was used to working on very little sleep. He had a feeling he wasn't going to be getting much anytime soon. The crew on Gamma shift offered him bright smiles. Whatever they'd been hearing, his extended stays in their presence were leaning them in his favor. He wasn't sure Spock had ever even tried to get to know them.

Had he actually started to respect that bastard robot?

It was about half an hour to Alpha shift when McCoy stormed onto the bridge, looking for the world like he was going to kill someone. Judging by the location of his glare, it was Jim. Which actually meant he was probably going to be doing something in a vain attempt to keep his Captain and friend alive for a few more days. Jim had just finished a heartwarming tale of his and McCoy's (exaggerated) exploits in the Academy when the man made himself present.

"Hey, Bones!" Jim laughed. "It's like you magically know when I'm talking about you."

"Walk with me." He growled, the order clear in his voice.

With a sigh and a goodbye to his new favorite people, he trailed after Bones. They were walking quickly and silently through the halls. Even with the anger much of the crew held for him, they couldn't help the pitying looks when they saw the way he was being led to his doom. He recognized the doors to the cafeteria only by virtue of being smart enough to read the placard next to them. Scotty was leaning on the wall, watching them approach.

"I see ye got him then."

"You were right." McCoy growled. "I checked his records. He hasn't eaten in a day. Two really, since that bagel of his hardly counts as a meal."

Jim tensed, eyes widening. "Oh."

"I suspected so." Scotty nodded. "Brilliant that is. The Cap'n hasn't been leaving his rooms. Morning, Jim."

"Morning Scotty." Jim grinned sheepishly. "And I have been eating some. I've been picking at the things I'm working into the replicators."

"You can't just starve yourself." McCoy announced in exasperation as he pushed him through the doors.

Jim pointedly kept his eyes from the table housing his senior staff members. "I haven't. This isn't the worst I've done."

"Don't think I don't know that." McCoy snapped. "Christ, who cares if you can go a week without eating. It doesn't mean you should."

"I know." Jim murmured quietly, and even that was loud in the unusually quiet mess area.

Without bothering to ask, McCoy selected something for Jim to eat. Jim mumbled and grumbled about it, but allowed his friend control in the situation. He really had just forgotten about eating. McCoy cursed abruptly and fluently, earning surprised looks from…well…everyone present.

"What the hell is this Jim?" He snapped, shoving a bowl in his face.

Jim glanced down at the bowl in mild surprise. It was filled mostly with grainy, dark looking porridge like whey and grain mix. He suspected that was what McCoy was trying for. The streaks of thin, orange-red liquid streaked through it were undoubtedly not supposed to be there. The smell was less than appetizing. He suspected he knew exactly what he'd done wrong.

"Oops. I guess I missed a line of code somewhere. Those shouldn't have mixed. I'll get it fixed." He grinned weakly, hoping the good doctor wouldn't make him eat it as punishment.

"What is this even?" McCoy hissed, dipping his finger in the orange portion and bringing it to his mouth.

Scotty repeated the action. The look the engineer sent him was amused beyond a reasonable amount. Bones looked like he was ready to kill him.

"Why the hell is there plomeek soup in this?" He hissed in annoyance.

Jim flushed, embarrassed at having been caught. "I told you I missed a line of code. Hey, wait! You can't tell what it is, because I wasn't sure if I had gotten it right. I've never had it before and-"

"Yes." McCoy interrupted. "It's right. Why is it even programmed in the replicator?"

"I'll be suspectin' the Cap'n is programming a wee treat for our guests, Doctor." Scotty grinned. "And it has a bit 'o spice that's not traditional. Try a tad less redspice, Cap'n."

"Perfect." McCoy growled, shoving the bowl in Scotty's hands. "Go dispose of this. I'll get you an egg sandwich while I'm over here."

Jim scuffed the floor with his boot, ignoring the baffled looks he was receiving from the crew. So what he was programming Vulcan food into the replicators? It wasn't like he was doing it for Spock. It was for the scientists and the kids coming on board. It didn't matter if the crew just wanted to watch him and assume they understood because of something Spock said. It wasn't the first time, and he had proven them all wrong then.

With a deep breath, he looked up from the floor, setting his jaw firmly. He wasn't going to take this treatment like some weak child who couldn't defend himself. He'd never laid down before, he wouldn't do it for this. Channeling the same embittered youth that had only himself to rely on that he'd been his entire life, he strolled right past his bridge crew to the table Scotty had acquired. McCoy followed after him, balancing three trays on his arms and grumbling about it.

And yet for all of his resolve, there he was pushing his salad around his plate and trying not to look at the table Spock was sitting at.

Since when did Spock take his meals with the entire bridge crew? Apparently since they all started hating him together. About the third time he offered an overly enthusiastic, hollow laugh to something only minutely funny, Scotty and Bones exchanged looks.

"Oh laddy." Scotty sighed. "Ye're acting like a love struck lassie."

Jim bolted up straight, dropping his fork. Bones groaned, putting his head in his hands.

"Please don't go there." McCoy sighed, running his fingers through his hair with more than just a hint of stress.

"What is that even supposed to mean?" Jim laughed nervously.

"Pushing yer food around, naut getting sleep, trying not to look in his direction." Scotty waved his sandwich at him accusingly. "It means ye feel awful about this misunderstanding."

Jim groaned, crossing his arms and looking down at the table. "So what if I do? It doesn't matter."

"You know," McCoy growled. "It matters because this is affecting you. Maybe not so you can't do your job, yet, but you're killing yourself over this."

Jim grunted in disagreement, forcing a bite of salad down. "Better?"

"Ye know what?" Scotty rolled his eyes, standing. "I never was one to be taking sides."

Jim and McCoy watched in horrified fascination as he marched over to the bridge crew's table. Jim was beginning to think there was some kind of system in place, because all conversations dropped off. Scotty leaned across the back of Chekov's chair, staring at Uhura.

"I don't suppose ye could be of assistance lassie?"

She frowned, glaring over at Jim before flicking her eyes back to Scotty. "What do you need?"

"Could ye tell me how complicated Standard is as a language?"

She blinked in surprise. Most everyone did. The table still shot Jim suspicious looks. He shrugged helplessly, as though they would actually believe him. Spock was watching Scotty with a blank look, as if waiting to see where the line of questioning was going.

"Well…" She started carefully. "It is fairly complex. The reason it was made the standard is because of the complexity though. It allows for ridged translations of most languages that don't use much imagery, but is capable of working with the imprecise, abstract languages as well."

"So ye're saying the language has multiple interpretations?"

"…Yes."

"Tell me, lassie, how would ye interpret it if I were to tell ye you've got a smart mouth on ye?"

She frowned. "As an insult."

"Oh, aye, I suppose it could be. I mean it as a compliment though, since ye're a linguist. And tell me, what would ye think if I asked ye to join me fer a sandwich by the nacelles?"

She scrunched her face in confusion. "I have no idea. Why would you want to?"

"Oh, I see." Scotty shrugged, throwing a look over his shoulder before turning back to her. "I suppose something else would be to yer tastes for a date."

"A date?" Sulu interrupted. "_That_ is your idea of a date?"

"Aye, or at least a meal with a good friend. What would ye do if ye were making friends?"

"I give my friends flowers." Sulu said pointedly. "Or don't you remember the cactus?"

"Zhat is vhat the flowers are being for?" Chekov's eyes widened.

Sulu looked to him in surprise. "Of course. Why did you think I gave you that Lerian vine?"

"I vas beliewing you vished me to leawe and gawe it to me because I vas saying it vas pretty."

"What? No. I was trying to get you to like me so you'd stop correcting my work all the time!" Sulu looked incredulous.

Chekov's jaw dropped. "Net! Net! Iz all vrong! I vas correcting the vorks because I vished to be help. I vas beliewing you vould be happiez vith the help and zhat you vould like me better. You thought I vas being mean?"

Sulu started laughing. "Oh man! I can't believe we were both trying so hard!"

"Oh a tricky thing this communicating." Scotty looked over at Uhura in amusement. "To think these wee lads could be so far off and they're both human boys who know Standard well."

Across the cafeteria, McCoy and Jim were watching them with their jaws hanging open. Jim couldn't believe that he would try and make that point to them. Bones slapped his arm and smirked.

"That's a friend Jim." He nodded, whispering. "Just don't shove your tongue down his throat."

"Bones!" Jim hissed, slapping a hand over McCoy's mouth. "Not even funny."

He yanked Jim's hand down, but didn't continue as Uhura was speaking again.

"What's your point?"

Scotty shrugged, looking over at Spock. "I may not know the entire situation, but the lad over there doesn't have the best track record for communications. Now, ye may not believe him, and for all I know he's a right bastard, but I don't know the whole story. See, the thing is, he an I , we never had doubts about being friends, so we did'nau need ta prove it to each other. But if we had, I wouldn't have gotten him either, I suspect. I don't know about how Vulcans make friends, but humans haven't really got a system about it yet. I don't believe he's even got his own system worked out."

Eyes darted between Spock and Scotty a moment, before turning slowly to Jim. He was staring at Scotty in muted horror.

"Mind your own business." Uhura snapped.

Scotty raised his hands in defense. "Oh? Seein' as the Cap'n is my friend, I thought it was. I did'nau want to choose sides, but if ye willn't be telling me exactly what happened here, I suppose I'll be siding with me Cap'n."

The room was silent as he returned to their table. Jim cast him a withering look before averting his eyes to his table. No one noticed the thoughtful look in Spock's eyes, contemplating what he'd just heard. Was it possible that he misunderstood? Was he wrong to have dismissed Jim…Kirk, without having listened to his reasoning? He too did not know both sides of it.

Or rather, he refused to analyze what he knew of the other side.

… .. .

Jim hadn't bothered to even report to the bridge after his awkward breakfast. He was going to fix the coding he messed up, and then he was going to draft a plan for the shift rotations. Which is why it came as a surprise when Sulu managed to corner him in the turbo lift. Sulu stopped the lift, giving him an appraising look.

"Is what Scotty said right?"

"How should I know?" Jim shrugged. "I didn't understand half of what he was saying."

"Hey." Sulu took a warning tone. "I'm trying to get the other side here."

Jim frowned, looking away. "Yeah. Sorry. Okay. I guess I wouldn't be much better than Spock's being if I act like that."

"So he did misinterpret something…"

"Yes…No. Not exactly." Jim shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "He read it right…sort of. I just presented it wrong."

"Oh." Sulu frowned. "How? Everyone's got this whole idea that you just want into his pants, which is fucking ridiculous because you aren't gay…Spock's not answering either way."

Jim stared at him in horror. "Did you actually believe that?"

"That you were trying to sleep with him? No." Sulu admitted. "But I didn't know what to believe about you trying to be friends with him. I don't _really_ know you that well."

Jim reached out and restarted the lift. "Well I'm not interested in sleeping with him. And I'm sure now that we're completely incompatible as friends."

Sulu shrugged and stepped back out of the lift before the re-opened doors shut. "That's none of my business. I'll see if I can't do some damage control on what everyone's been sharing about you, but I doubt it'll be as effective as what Scotty just did. And…I'm sorry for ever doubting you. I should have asked first."

"Thanks." Jim offered him a genuine smile. "Oh, and why did I never get a flower?"

"Because you jumped off a drill after me." Sulu laughed. "Earns a bit more on the friendship scale than a potted plant."

Jim grinned. "So you'll return the favor some day?"

"Hell no." Sulu waved goodbye, heading to the bridge as the turbo lift doors shut again.

Jim sagged against the wall in relief, feeling just a bit better than he had in a while. Scotty and Sulu were his friends, and he hadn't managed to completely mess that up yet. They knew he gave a damn about them without him trying to show it and royally fucking it. Apparently, it was okay not to show that you were friends, and to just do it.

Sometimes being a guy was great.

And hey! He'd learned something new. Fuck therapy, he'd just make friends by jumping off drills and giving his friends the best toys they'd ever want for their field of specialization. As long as he remembered that, he wouldn't have to worry about messing it up.

He had a lot of other things to worry about messing up right now anyway. Organizing them would be good.

Step one: Finish trying to program Vulcan food into the replicators without having ever tasted any of it.

Step two: Get Gamma shift to love him.

He should really name these things. Like 'Operation Awesome.' Except not so vague. Maybe 'Operation Slide Rule.' That was a little geeky, but easy to remember what he was doing.

… .. .

When Sulu returned to the helm from his little chat with Kirk, he was contemplative. He didn't think Uhura was acting out of some misguided hate for Jim. Rather, it seemed to be an overprotective thing. The real question was how he was going to go about getting her to stop looking at Kirk like he was a born and raised asshole long enough to give him a chance. What was her problem with getting along with him?

Sure, everyone knew about Kirk's tendency to hit on her during his academy days, but man.

He noticed Chekov repeatedly glancing in his direction and offered a distracted smile. The young Russian frowned, glancing over toward Spock, and then Uhura. Seeing they were fully distracted, Chekov leaned over far in his chair and braced himself against Sulu to keep from falling.

"Vhat is vrong Hikaru?" He whispered.

Sulu flushed, turning to him in shock. "Don't worry about it."

Chekov gave him a decent pout. "Iz not truth. You hawe look of vorry. Vhy is this beings?"

"It…we can talk later." Sulu insisted, looking nervously around the room.

As no one was looking, Chekov leaned closer. "Ve can talk novw."

"Look, Pavel." Sulu turned more fully, gripping Chekov's arms. "This really isn't the time or place. I'll explain later, I promise."

Chekov turned up the pout, eye widening a bit. "But you are vorried. It iz vorrying me."

"I'm not worried." He insisted affectionately, ruffling the younger man's hair. "I'm just thinking."

Chekov swatted his hand away. "Do not be tinking zhis iz ouwer."

"Lieutenant Sulu, Ensign Chekov." Spock's voice rang out over the bridge, subtly drawing everyone's attention to the pair. "Return to your posts."

Chekov nodded quickly, scrambling back into he seat proper. Sulu swiveled around, face red. When he finally got his mind off of the embarrassment of getting caught doing something he wasn't supposed to with Chekov…, he turned his mind back to the problem. Maybe Chekov could help him. Sulu hadn't gotten a chance to talk with him about what he'd said on the bridge the other day. Now he needed to bring up Kirk…he just hope some of that innocent hero worship made him actually listen when Scotty spoke.

… .. .

If he was going to do this, he knew he needed center. That was why Spock was taking the time to properly arrange the candles and incense around his room. They were a nice mix, something he never admitted to doing. Sharp, dry, Vulcan scents for his traditional incense, immediately filling the room with the pervasive fragrance of home. The candles were much more subtle, a sweet, wet, _Earth_ scent that lingered underneath everything.

His mother used to light her candles throughout the house, and the cloying perfume would fill it, persistent even in his room as he meditated. His father often expressed…exasperation…with the presence of the earthly aroma.

Spock suspected he enjoyed it as much as he did, as he continued to bring them back with him from his ambassadorial trips to Earth.

Spock settled himself in the middle of his room, disregarding his mat. A poor habit to fall back into, but one he would accept this time. Comfort was illogical to seek during meditation. That was not the point of meditation. He desired the comfort, though, if he was going to attempt to brave the maelstrom of emotions that was James Kirk.

He took a deep breath, and sunk into his thoughts, searching for the bundle of foreign emotions and memory he had locked away. His thoughts brushed across it, immediately meeting the surge of contradiction that only Jim could evoke. With a will, he forced it down, and went at it with a scientific precision. Take it apart, analyze it, understand. He _would_ use logic on this, regardless of Jim's proponent to be resistant to it.

The first emotion that hit him was that ever pervasive lust. He pushed down the wave of disgust he felt at it and chose to inspect it. He didn't understand how it was wrong, different from how the emotion should be, but he knew that it was. It was more than just hollow. It was twisted, warped in someway from what it should have been. It was a physical want, a deep craving that seemed to have no proper way of fulfilling it. Further analysis would provide him with no insight in that emotion. He was too unfamiliar with emotions to understand it.

He set it aside, for the first time since the incident, and plunged deeper.

He took hold of the first emotion that had been hiding under it, holding it at the forefront of his mind. This he could identify. This was fear.

Why fear? Fear for the repercussion of his actions? Fear that Spock would not understand him? Fear for something deeper? What did Jim fear? There was no context to the fear, nothing to give it direction or shape. Perhaps the other emotions would elucidate on the matter, but alone it was of little use to him.

He set that too aside, freeing it to simply be another memory of emotions.

The next emotion he took hold of caused him to tense. He forced his muscles and mind to relax again. Anger. Why did Jim's anger always course through him so easily? Why did it take such deep hold in him? Even this, a faint trace of anger, diffused in being mixed so heavily with indecision. It punctured him, heating his blood with an unfamiliar rage. He forced it away, spending long minutes allowing himself to slacken, cooling down in a far more literal sense of the word than many could imagine.

There was worry, regret, sorrow, shame, all emotions he understood.

He'd never really understood the description of 'a sinking feeling in your stomach'. Touching through Jim's emotions had brought a stunningly similar sensation. Jim always seemed capable of eliciting such strange reactions in him, even when he wasn't there.

By the time he was through all but one of Jim's emotions, he was sure he had done Jim wrong by not listening to him. Perhaps he had not read the situation wrong, but there was certainly more to it than he initially believed. Spock fought down the telling remorse he felt. What was done was done. The only thing he could do was make it up to Jim.

It seemed he was having to do that often in his acquaintance with the other man.

With a deep breath, he plunged into the final emotion. It was perhaps the hardest to find, locked deep under everything that was firmly Jim.

Spock sprang to his feet, wrapping his arms around his torso to fight the uncontrollable shivers that racked his body. Water pooled in the corners of his eyes, a defect of his human side. His breath shook, deep breaths uneven with the physical repercussions of what he found.

"Computer." His voice broke even as he stumbled to his bed. "Raise temperature two degrees."

He wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, fighting against the internal chill. This emotion he knew. Cold and pervasive, holding his heart with its frosted claws. Amazing how well allegory could describe that feeling. He knew this emotion, because it was one he himself was intimately familiar with. One he still battled, meditating and fighting with to prevail over.

Feeling it as Jim did cast a wave of loneliness and understanding over him.

There was much to heal. He knew he would not sleep, and a small part of him wished to let the candles burn down to nothing, holding him in their comforting scent throughout the night. Weary, he stood to blow them out, body still protesting with faint tremors. He should finish meditation, set the emotion aside, where it could not harm is as it was. He should meditate to regain the control it had taken from him.

It was still there, in the forefront of his mind, insidious. He should have pushed it away, but it was the first time he had every felt such a thing from another. The first time he tasted such a bitter emotion.

Contradiction. Synonymous with James Kirk. A man so very confidant in his own abilities, so very much the definition of pride and strength. A man so very much like him in presenting himself to the world, never faltering in his belief of himself lest others doubt him. A man hiding a deep wound they both knew too well.

Spock knew this emotion, because he had been told it was the only one he should feel.

Spock knew this emotion, because he knew what it was like to look into yourself and despise everything you saw.

He knew self-loathing because he had been bathed in it like the red blood of his human half, staining his pale skin and seeping deep into his pores. It was the emotion that birthed him, brought him from the cool darkness of nothingness to the painful light of feeling. Of understanding.

He understood self-loathing.

He did not understand why James T. Kirk would feel it too. Why his own actions would break him so perfectly. Why he suffered from the weight of his actions before he had even perpetrated him.

How did Jim know this emotion?

And why did it rack him so?

Jim felt these emotions while he was kissing him. Spock would have understand if they had come after his leaving. He would have understood if they were a product of the misunderstanding that arose between them. But these emotions were tied directly to Jim's own actions. Before he even knew, before Spock even knew how he would react. This emotion sprang forth because Jim had looked into his actions, his instincts and his reactions, and he disliked…no…hated what he found there. He hated what he found at the core of himself.

But why?

Spock tossed and turned the entire night, a very human reaction. His eyes kept falling to the door of their shared bathroom. Jim was just a short way past there. He could see him now, speak with him, make amends. Jim would be sleeping. Should be sleeping. He was allowing this emotion to grip him too tightly. To emotionally compromise him.

He could still feel Jim in his mind. An yet he could not quite bring himself to let go of that fleeting sensation.

He had told himself he would not acclimate himself to Jim's emotions. He had swore to never let them rest below his barriers. He should meditate. He should prepare himself. If he wished to be capable of speaking to Jim and maintaining his rationality, he should place this last emotion beyond his barriers, where it would remain simply a memory, incapable of touching him as it currently did.

He would do so in the morning.

… … .. . .. … …

**Egads the angst. It burns. This is why I have problems writing dark things. I find it so very hard to take them seriously. Possibly a coping thing, bah. This is a serious thing though, which is why I force most of my natural sarcasm into the corner and my author's notes.**

**I suppose you'll see what I mean though.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Don't own.**

**You guys are so damn good to me. I misted up a little reading the reviews. Seriously though, I'm super gratified that you like it. Who wants and extra update Thursday or Friday this week?**

… … .. . .. … …

In the end, Spock caved in and meditated, since sleep was not forthcoming.

Feeling less than optimum, Spock decided to skip breakfast in favor of a long shower. Distracted, he very nearly used Jim's shampoo. It took several minutes to remind himself why this would be a highly illogical and flawed idea. He was thinking too intensely on the other man, allowing his preoccupation with their misunderstanding to distract him.

It was twenty minutes early when he headed to the bridge, knowing he would find Jim there.

He was not expecting to find Chekov and Sulu as well. All three were towering over a PADD, snatching the stylus from each other to add their own input on whatever they were discussing. The members of Gamma shift were calling out various activities and dates, all no doubt of some kind of importance to whatever their Captain was doing. Spock watched for a few minutes as they fell about themselves with laughter, and then started over.

"Captain." He interrupted as politely as he could.

The entire room stilled, all eyes focused on him. Jim cringed and handed the PADD to Chekov.

"Did you need something, Commander?" Jim had taken a step back to the young cadet Spock once chastised, cocky and defiant look plastered just below feigned sincerity.

"My apologies. I did not intend to interrupt…this activity." Spock glanced subtly around the room. "I was unaware you would be presently engaged by the bridge crew."

"Figured I'd be somewhere else?" Jim shrugged. "That's fine. I _should_ get going."

"That is…unnecessary."

"It's fine." Jim repeated waving goodbyes to the crew.

Before Spock could respond, Jim had picked up a previously unseen PADD from the Captain's chair, reclaimed his other PADD from Chekov, and headed for the door. For a brief moment, Kirk hesitated, then turned around and handed the first PADD to Spock. He blinked in surprise and accepted it even as the rest of Alpha crew began entering the bridge.

"I need you to look over that. Make any corrections you see fit. If you have anything to change, let me see it when you're done. If not, have Uhura send a copy to all personnel asking for their approval or disapproval within the week."

Stunned, Spock inclined his head in agreement. "Yes Captain."

"Good. You have the Conn."

Jim got away before Spock could request speaking to him. Chekov was whispering something frantically to Sulu, using exaggerated arm motions to emphasize his point. Sulu nodded his head finally, no doubt in agreement. The sign of approval had Chekov across the bridge, kneeling next to Uhura.

"Ve are vorking on top secret project." He murmured conspiratorially to her, forgetting he was now much closer to Spock, and therefore within hearing range. "Ve are needing linguist and cultural specialist. You are not needing helping if you do not vants, but ve vould like wery much to hawe suggestion of awailable persons if you vill not be of assisting."

She gave him a confused, suspicious look. "Top secret? On who's orders?"

"The Keptin. I can say net in detail until ve hawe agreement to assist. Just zhat iz wery important ve hawe skilled culturalist."

She paused, obviously thinking ill of anything the Captain was proposing. "I can't agree based just on that."

Chekov frowned, holding up his finger to tell her to wait and darting back to where Sulu sat. He once again began speaking energetically, no longer within Spock's hearing range. The first officer glanced over at Uhura, a touch of amusement coloring his eyes. The entire bridge was keeping an eye on the young man, though few could actually hear him. This was…unsurprising, as plans between those three were often want for secrecy.

Chekov scuttled back over, putting his best serious face on. "I vill share only that it iz detailed paper. A special cultural analysis."

Uhura seemed to consider this a moment, before nodding. "Alright. I'm listening."

"Net." Chekov scolded. "Iz not safe to discuss here. Ve vill meet in the rec room wun at the end of shift."

Uhura sighed, rolling her eyes at the whiz kid. "Fine."

"Iz good." Chekov beamed at her. "You vill see. Keptin vill be pleazed to be hawing your expert."

"Expertise." She corrected quickly, but he was already back in his seat, once again engaged with Sulu in discussion.

Spock chose not to chastise the younger man for treating the bridge as though it were a rec room. Something Uhura gave him a surprised look for doing. Silently, he turned his attention to the PADD Jim had handed him. It contained a detailed plan for rather intricate shift rotations. He followed the calculations quickly in his head, and was surprised to find that the subtle shifts and changes would have the entire crew familiar with, and having spent numerous on and off duty hours in the presence of, each other by the end of the first year.

It was a highly detailed plan that would force crew mingling in the work environment.

Fascinating.

He found a note at the bottom, in rather horrid scrawl, that detailed the medical benefits and down sides to the plan. Some people might not adjust well to the constantly changing schedule. Crew moral would be improved though. A constantly shifting schedule could create stress in trying to remember when you were supposed to report. It would provide more socializing and bonding opportunities, creating a stable, trusting crew. Spock added a note of his own, correlating the experience opportunities it would make available to every crew member. It would also serve the purpose of keeping everyone but the senior bridge crew from monotony and constant high alert.

They would no longer need to wake the primary reserve crew for night time emergencies, because all personnel would be trained for the duties.

Over all, it was surprisingly well thought out. The simulated shifts and associating calculations were no doubt aided by the use of a computer, but Jim was greatly responsible for the content of the procedure.

He would have to speak to the Captain about the opportunity it would provide, as well as the chance to make the proposal to the entirety of Starfleet, if it proved beneficial. Perhaps, if Jim was to continue avoiding him, he would use the opportunity to also bring up the…briefing room…incident.

For now, he would recheck Jim's work to ensure there were absolutely no flaws. Computers and Captains were fallible.

… .. .

When shift ended, with no sign of the Captain, Spock was not surprised. Sulu and Chekov sprang from their seats rushing off towards the rec room. Uhura stood to follow.

"Nyota." Spock called to her quickly before she could leave. "A moment, please? I will endeavor not to keep you long."

She stopped to wait for him, and continued at a much slower pace when he fell into step with her. "What do you need? If it's about the Captains 'top secret' cultural report than-"

Spock raised his hand to stop her, quirking an eyebrow in amusement. "There is no need to inform me of the nature or content of such report. My imposition does, in fact, have to do with the Captain, however. If he is present at your meeting, please inform him that I have looked over the information he has requested and wish to speak with him on the matter."

She frowned, eyes glancing to the PADD at his side. "What is it?"

"A crew rotation schedule." He replied simply.

"Okay…"She frowned a bit. "How are you, anyway? Ever since the bridge incident you haven't told me anything."

"I am well." He responded stiffly.

"Spock…"

Sometimes he disliked her mothering tone, so insistent and leaving little room for argument. It was rather disquieting being spoken down to in such a caring manner. Even suppressing his emotions, he found the tone was carefully crafted with the intent of making the recipient guilty for half-truths and omissions. He would never inform her of such, but he sometimes felt uncomfortable with the tone directed at him. The Captain's tendency to squirm when it was levied at him seemed most appropriate.

"Nyota." He could certainly pull off stubborn though.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"There are numerous things I do not share with you, often because you would find them tedious. Others are simply inappropriate given the nature of our relationship."

"Spock." She stopped walking, fixing him with an appraising look. "I'm your _friend_. You can talk to me. You should talk to me."

He quirked an eyebrow at her, but inclined his head in agreement. "I have only recently found the time and…desire, to meditate upon the incident. Having done so, I am well."

"Did it provide you with any answers?"

"Yes." Because it had. "It has also brought many questions."

She bit her lip, an oddly emotional reaction. "So you need to talk to him?"

"…That would be advisable."

She nodded. "Okay. I understand. I…I just don't want him to hurt you. You understand that, right?"

"Of course." Spock let a small smile grace his lips, reaching up to brush her hair behind her ear. "Ko-kai."

She beamed. Sister. He considered her a sister. And yes, that small part of her heart that was still interested in him romantically broke. Still, it felt clean, right, to love him like family. With a soft smile, she brushed her fingers across his shoulder and stepped back from his touch. He nodded politely to her, returning his hands behind his back.

"I want to know what he did." She told him firmly. "I understand it may be private, but he _did_ hurt you. Who knows, I may be able to answer some of your questions."

"I find that unlikely." Spock admitted. "And I do not with to breach his privacy in such a manner. I will, however, inform you of the course of events on two conditions."

"Alright…" She narrowed her eyes. "What?"

"You may tell no one. Not even Jim, of what you know."

She started a bit at the use of Kirk's first name. Apparently, his meditation certainly had answered some questions. She nodded quickly when he paused, indicating she would agree to that term. He nodded once, eyes trained on her, scrutinizing her in an attempt to understand the cause of her surprise.

"I also wish for you to assist in dispelling the rumors currently circulating the ship."

"Oh." She looked at him sheepishly. "I didn't start those, you know. Chapel did…but I will help put a stop to them."

"Very well. I will speak to you on the matter at a later date. I have kept you from your…secret…meeting long enough."

She offered him an exasperated smile and left. He wasn't fooling her though. There was something ominous in the way he told her not to tell Jim. Something that didn't sit right with her. But she had promised and, even if she had a perfectly good reason to walk up to Kirk and slap him, she wouldn't. Spock didn't want her telling him. So she wouldn't.

… .. .

Yeoman Rand found Spock in the science department, overseeing various experiments.

"Commander." She nodded politely to him. "Captain Kirk requested I see if you were finished with the documents he gave you."

He inclined his head to her. "I am."

"Oh!" She smiled. "That's good. I can take those to him, if you'd like."

"I am capable of doing so myself." He quirked an eyebrow, watching her closely.

She squirmed a bit. "Oh…right…I knew that…I just meant…well…"

"The Captain has requested you retrieve it, rather than sending me with the documents?" For all that he posed it as a question, it wasn't.

"Yes." She admitted sheepishly.

"Very well." He retrieved the PADD and handed it to her. "Inform him that I wish to speak with him when he is available."

"Yes Sir." She said quickly, and hurried off.

He turned back to the scientists he was currently overseeing in time to see the surprised, questioning looks on their faces. He raised an eyebrow at them and they hurriedly returned to their work, even as he reclaimed the PADD he had been recording data on. Most of the science crew had been fairly quiet about his interactions with the Captain. The extent of their knowledge about the elusive man was limited to what they had heard during their academy years.

Spock was beginning to realize just what an effort Jim had put into this false reputation of his.

He was simultaneously well known while managing to be completely secretive. Spock suspected the man knew full well the extent of the rumors surrounding him and had chosen specifically not to correct them. What good such a image did him, he did not know, but he was coming to terms with the fact that he may never understand Jim's motivations behind anything. He suspected there was far more to the man than he could ever hope to discover.

A strange little part of him he did not recognize insisted the _were_ ways to figure Jim out.

He dropped the PADD he was holding in startled horror, wondering where that thought had come from. It was a horrendous breach of trust to even consider. And yet, unbidden, thoughts of a deep, tactile mind laying just below his fingertips sprang to life, choking him with their intensity. The unrelenting thirst of searching searing his mind, begging to be quenched in the stunning blue pools, to drink deeply of the other man's thoughts and _understand_, truly understand what it tasted there.

Spock was brought from his terrifying thoughts by the firm press of a delicate palm on his shoulder. He blinked away his confusion, attempting to settle the howling in his blood. He would not allow his fascination with the other man to take his control.

Around him, the lab techs were staring, horrified little looks on their faces.

He turned to the hand, still pressing his shoulder through the fabric, emotions muted enough to be non-existent. Uhura. She was staring up at him, concern dancing in her eyes.

"Lieutenant." He said politely, voice rasping.

She flinched, eyes widening. "I…we needed to talk?"

She didn't sound so sure of that fact. Her eyes made a quick search of him, looking for some cause of what she had seen.

Never before had the man seemed so unfamiliar. Even when she had first met him. Even when he stood upon the bridge, choking Kirk in his grief. Even when he had forced his mind on the other man, and received the same. Outwardly, he had seemed collected as always, a picture of perfect control.

If she hadn't watched him drop the PADD when she entered, she wouldn't have looked in his eyes, most likely. She almost wished she had missed the little display, hadn't had her eyes wrenched up, ready to search. She wished she hadn't seen the intense fires burning those dark eyes, filling them with an impassioned ferocity. His eyes held a touch of wild heat, severe and revealing the inscrutable mind behind them.

For a second, his eyes were a glassy plane, all his thoughts swirling just below the surface, completely open and utterly unfathomable.

She didn't like what she saw there. Didn't like that she couldn't understand what she was seeing. Her hand flew out of its own accord, reaching for the man she knew. For a split second, she was afraid she wouldn't find him, couldn't reach him below those plotting eyes. His dark lashes fluttered over darker eyes for a mere second.

Spock stared at her with dull brown, calm, shielded eyes.

"Affirmative." He inclined his head to her. "You are capable of handling this own your own?"

It took her a second to realize that last comment had been directed at the lab techs. They nodded furiously, not having seen the same thing she did, but feeling the wrongness in the man before them with animal instinct. He nodded once in agreement and clasped his hands behind his back, heading out of the labs.

She followed him blindly, barely keeping herself in check. Her body wanted to sag, a mix of fear, confusion, and relief setting her on edge.

"Nyota." Spock called when she hesitated before entering the turbo lift.

She offered him a weak smile and hurried in, staring at the doors as they slid shut.

He gave her a scrutinizing look. "You are unwell?"

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She couldn't look in his eyes as she asked this. "You were thinking of him, weren't you? You were thinking of Kirk?"

He straightened, muscles going taut, though he had nowhere to run. She had no way of knowing his thoughts, yet she hadn't really asked. The question was there, but she already knew the answer. He couldn't help but wonder what she had seen that would make her believe it was so.

"Yes." He said softly, watching her.

She crumpled, one hand sliding down the wall, other wrapping around her waist. He shoulders trembled as she leaned her head against the wall. She should have know. She _did_ know. It was always Kirk. She couldn't stop the light flow of tears down her cheeks, or the almost hysterical laughs. Always. She was still only just coming to terms with the fact that Spock was nothing like she imagined, and Kirk was pushing new sides of him to the surface. It was hilarious, really. Because if it wasn't hilarious, it was heartbreaking. It was heartbreaking that she had known him for years, and knew less about him than a man who, on their best days, could barely share a room with him without one of them snapping.

Spock shifted uncomfortably, reaching out to her, but leaving his hand hanging in the air. He was always reaching.

With a jolt at that thought, he set his hand on Uhura's shoulder, kneeling next to her. Now, even through the fabric, there was stilted sorrow and resignation. There was even a touch of jealously, which he thought he understood. She turned and wrapped her arms around him, and Spock was hit with a wave of relief. He did not know the source of her relief.

She was relieved to have never had that kind of intense scrutiny leveled on her, eyes intent on laying their target bare and seeing it all.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

"I do not know what you have to apologize for." Spock admitted. "Nor do I understand why you are distressed. Have I offended you?"

"No." She gave him a wet chuckle, wiping her eyes. "No, Spock. It's alright. I just…I'm just letting go…of us."

Spock allowed a genuine frown on his face. "I do not understand. Your cause of distress is the cessation of our romantic interactions?"

"Yes…no. Not exactly." She sighed. "It's complicated."

"I have found humans tend to be complicated." He confessed ruefully, earning a wry laugh. "Is it at all possible for me to be of assistance?"

"No. I just need time for this." She whispered, rising back to her feet.

She offered Spock her hand to help him up. He took it with a small smile, unconcerned by the taboo he was surely breaking. She was like family to him and her presence was always welcome. Her hand was cool in his, small, and gently pulsing with a genuine happiness, bitter as it was. Her emotions were always so quiet, the faintest brush against his mind, much as his mothers had been.

The turbo lift doors slid open and a PADD crashed to the floor.

They both snapped their heads sideways to see Kirk staring at them, eyes wide. He stuttered a quick apology, snatching up his PADD and _running_ down the hall. Spock quirked an eyebrow, raising himself from the ground and looking to Uhura for some explanation. She seemed equally perplexed, before her eyes darted to Spock.

"Oh." She glanced down at their hands and then back at the now empty hall.

"Fascinating." He murmured, and retrieved his hand from hers.

"I…uh…I'll explain when we get to your room." Uhura couldn't help but acknowledge the irony of the situation.

She and Spock were just discussing the end of their romantic relationship, and their Captain caught them in a situation that looked suspiciously like a marriage proposal.

… .. .

Jim wasn't sure why he felt like he'd taken a punch to the gut from a blooded Klingon. All he knew was that there was immense pain ripping through him as he tore down the hall. There was another turbo lift. His plans to get dinner were effectively scrapped, however. He wouldn't be able to eat with his stomach twisted in such a tight knot.

Hidden in the far turbo lift, Jim sagged against the wall, face flushed horrible. Spock and Uhura. Yeah, he kind of already knew, but they'd said nothing was actually going down between them. Had that changed? Obviously it had to have…unless they were yanking his chain from the start. He couldn't believe it though. Yeah…Spock and Uhura…but marriage? Oh.

Oh!

He'd have to pull strings. There were so many problems with relationships on starships. They were almost never approved. He'd have to cut through so much tape if he wanted to keep them both.

And he did.

It hurt…so much. He didn't know why, but seeing them like that hurt.

But if it was for them…he'd do anything. He'd do it because they deserved it. Even though the thought of having to see them together sank his stomach like a weighty stone. He didn't get it. Them, feeling how they did, was more than he could handle at the moment. And he had no idea why it was so painful. They were his friends…well…no, but they were his colleagues and people he respected. Not being their friend should have made it even more meaningless.

So why was he choking on every gasp of air?

Why did it always come down to this? Seeing Spock so happy? Why did it always steal his breath away and make him ache? Why did he always forget to breath?

Oh…yeah. Breathing. He sucked in a breath of air, bitter on his tongue and his lungs feeling cold. It tasted arid, heavy and unwanted in his mouth. But he remembered to breath, because he already knew. He knew what it was, now, that caused him to freeze up. He understood what it was to hurt the way he did. Jealousy.

How was it fair that someone like Spock, who could hurt him so, who had always been capable of hurting him, who could flay him open with his words like no one deserved to be capable of doing, who was only just beginning to understand pain…how was it fair that he could always find someone, just a touch away? How was it fair that people flocked to him, so willing to give? How was it fair that he knew how to form connections? How was it fair that he could be so close to people and claim he wasn't? How was it fair that he could hold people in close and form such deep, emotional bonds, and Jim almost hadn't had Bones?

He must have looked frightening when he stormed through Sickbay, because nurses jumped aside, staring him down. If he was reading their looks right, he must have appeared like some foreign creature, capable of atomizing people with the slightest brush. He didn't mind. McCoy was in the process of scanning a crewmember when he spotted Jim.

The look of utter astonishment confirmed that he must, indeed, look horrible.

McCoy hurried to finish his scans and handed the patient over to another doctor. "Shit, Jim. Are you okay?"

Jim allowed a shake of his head, and remembered to draw in another labored breath. Bones led him to a far bed and began his scans, frowning immediately at what he saw.

"Jim…what's…?"

"P…panic attack…I think." Jim gasped, wishing his heart rate would return to normal.

"Okay…okay…good. That's good to know." McCoy pressed his fingers to Jim's neck along his pulse. "What happened?"

"I…same thing as last time…or well…not exactly…That'd be…yeah…no. I can't even picture that." Jim rambled, flailing his hands a bit for emphasis. "I mean really…I'd be weird if Spock proposed to Pike."

"What?" Bones gave him a deadpan look, drawing back to find the proper hypospray if it proved he needed it.

Jim grimaced, blurting it out almost immediately. "Spock proposed to Uhura."

McCoy nearly dropped his bag, eyes widening. "Up. I'm getting you a head scan."

"Bones!" Jim groaned. "I'm not crazy."

Said doctor narrowed his eyes, glaring potently at him "Presuming what you say happened actually happened, which I am doubting, and it did set off some kind of mild panic attack, why?"

"I…it did happen…" Jim kicked his feet against the bed, not really wanting to answer the question.

It suddenly felt very silly, and a kind of personal he wasn't sure Bones would get. The older man wasn't buying the decoy a bit though and viciously stabbed a hypo into his friend's neck. Jim yelped, hands flying to his neck and legs curling up protectively towards his stomach.

"What exactly did you see?" McCoy switched tactics.

Jim was just grateful for the topic change. "Spock was kneeling in front of her, holding her hand. They were smiling, really smiling, not just that weird thing Spock does with his eyes that lets you know he's happy. Uhura was crying! She looked so…beautiful…happy…I don't know…"

McCoy twitched. He was going to tell Jim he had obviously misinterpreted what happened, but that certainly did sound conclusive. But still…it hadn't seemed like Uhura had been lying to him. And he was getting the version of events as Jim saw it, which, yeah, were often pretty good. Jim always did try to sell it straight to him, when it finally came down to it. No came the big question. Why?

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Jim glanced around nervously, knowing he had already lost. McCoy lead him to his office, wondering briefly if he should just turn it into a private Jim room. It seemed like that was all it was going to get any use for.

In the room, Jim placed his head in his hands. McCoy continued to scan the blond, watching as his vitals attempted to right themselves with the aid of his little booster. When Jim looked up at him, his blue eyes were haunted. All at once, the words began pouring out, his little revelation in the turbo lift, what he'd seen between Spock and Pike, what he felt when he saw him and Uhura together…His decision to help their relationship no matter what.

McCoy listened to it all impartially, finally sitting on the edge of his desk and shaking his head. "When the hell did you get so mature, Jim?"

"When I realized I didn't want to have sex anymore if it meant he'd look at me like I didn't deserve to breath the same air as him." Jim said humorlessly.

McCoy inhaled sharply, eyes widening. "I knew you felt bad about the Cardassian, but celibacy?"

Jim let out a bitter laugh, not looking up to catch the look his friend was giving him. "Yeah…yeah I guess. Because it wasn't just because it was her. It was because it was a throwback of the old me. The me I'm not anymore. He hadn't said it was because it was her, he said it was because it was me…and I…I can't handle that."

To his credit, Bones didn't drop his tricorder.

There was no way. "Why the hell are you doing anything for him?"

McCoy could only pray he didn't already know the answer. Please god don't let the answer be what he thought it was. Please don't let Jim be _that_ in over his head. Please don't let this be the one thing Jim can't handle. The one thing Bones knew Jim couldn't handle. And with the worst person possible.

"Hey! Haven't you been on me for years that I should stop sleeping with everything I could because it wasn't good for me?" Jim shifted awkwardly.

Bones huffed at him, shaking his head. "Yeah. Yeah I have. And I'm your god damn best friend. So why the hell is the fucking hobgoblin getting something from you that I can't?"

If he sounded pissed, it was mostly because he was scared. Jim was his friend, and he couldn't stand to see him like this.

The sandy haired captain looked up at him, blue eyes wide. "I…I don't know. I really don't. I…I just can't disappoint _him_ Bones. I…I know what you think of me…you understand me… and I don't think I'll have that with anyone else. Not like that. But I want it. I want him to understand me, even if it's just a little. I want him to look at me like you do. You see me, and everything I've been though and yeah…you've seen my worst…but you see the best too. I had to _work_ for that with you, but it was different."

"Oh Jim." The Georgian man sighed. "You're so far in over your head, and you don't even realize it."

"Don't I?" Jim let out a scared little laugh.

"You have to understand." Bones sighed, wrapping an arm around his friend's shoulders. "You don't want the same thing."

"I don't?"

"Don't worry about it just yet." The brunette rolled his shoulders, standing. "First things first, we've got to get you two back on speaking terms."

Jim beamed at him, an awkward, but happy thing. "You're the best Bones."

"Yeah." The doctor admitted with a smirk. "I am. Now get out of here. I have real work to do."

"Sorry." Jim laughed. "Think my life would make a good soap opera or daytime drama?"

"No. Who the hell would want to watch a Captain of a starship doing a bunch of boring missions and trying to sort his crap out?" McCoy pushed him out the door, ushering him from the Sickbay.

The nurses and doctors looked immediately relieved, no longer leaping out of his way. Apparently he looked better. When the Sickbay doors slid shut behind him, Jim considered heading back to his room. He glanced at the PADD in his hands and frowned. Spock had wanted to speak to him about the plans. It could actually be important. It didn't seem like he had any complaints, based on the footnotes he added…but…

"Computer, locate Commander Spock."

"Commander Spock…located deck three in personal room." The computer droned politely.

Jim felt a sudden tensing of his muscles, as though he'd just jumped into a very cold body of water. "C-computer…locate Lieutenant Uhura."

He bit his lip, stomach already sinking, as the computer responded. "Lieutenant Uhura…located deck three…personal room of Commander Spock."

He punched the turbo lift for the gym, needing time alone.

… … .. . .. … …

**This chapter is rated M for gratuitous abuse of PADDs. Seriously. Damn things must be slippery as all hell.**

**I just arbitrarily assigned the deck their rooms are on. Though I think the placard outside Spock's room says it's on the third floor in TOS. If someone has a better idea of which one it is, let me know. Other wise…yeah…you're stuck with it.**

_**Ko-kai**_**-Sister**


	17. Chapter 17

**Not owning.**

**Here it is as an extra, because you guys are so awesome.**

… … .. . .. … …

When Spock let Uhura into his room, she immediately took a seat on his bed. He took a stiff seat at the desk chair opposite her.

"Kirk thinks you proposed to me." She blurted out quickly, earning a pair of surprised eyebrows raised in her direction. "Remember the lesson you did on marital gestures? The kneeling and holding hands is a traditional earth gesture. Obviously he just caught us at a bad time, but I'm pretty sure that's what he thought he saw."

Spock raised his hand to stop her, a gesture that reminded him firmly of students asking to speak. "I will endeavor to correct his misassumption."

She nodded, rolling her eyes a bit. "Apparently we need to work on communication on the ship."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Affirmative."

Uhura lay back on the bed, groaning. "Take, for example, this stupid top secret project of the Captain's. Our whole 'meeting' Chekov and Sulu sat grilling me on completely unrelated cultural practices and figuring out how many cultures I knew about. In the end, they just said I would be able to help and didn't tell me anything about what we were supposed to be doing."

"Fascinating. You are certain there were no connected topics of interest?"

"Not that I could find. I'm pretty sure they specifically asked questions they weren't interested in, and left out a few they were, just so I wouldn't be able to tell."

Spock inclined his head in agreement. She barely caught the movement from the corner of her eye, and sat back up. Neither spoke for a moment. Uhura narrowed her eyes and frowned, leaning forward onto her knees. Spock straightened a bit at the movement, watching her in return.

"It's time you tell me. What did Kirk do?"

Spock took a deep, silent breath and began to explain. He specifically left out all of Jim's emotions. It was irrational, but they felt private, like they belonged to him. Jim had given them to him, and he did not wish to share. He obviously set that reasoning aside and insisted it was a breach of trust to share what _wasn't_ his. When he explained to her Jim's reaction to his leaving, she tensed, eyed widening. He confessed the reasoning he used was flawed as he had not allowed Kirk to explain, though he had believed the other man would simply lie.

"He kissed you." Her voice was choked, tight.

"I do not believe that was originally his intent." Spock admitted, feeling more awkward about the incident than he had previously.

"Why? What would make you think he isn't exactly what you originally thought?"

"I…analyzed the emotions he was feeling. They were not concurrent with his actions."

She frowned at the ambiguous phrasing, but nodded her head. "So now what? You confront him? Ask him for the explanation you wouldn't let him give you before? What do you do now?"

"I do not know. Jim has clearly been avoiding me." If it weren't so unbecoming to shrug, Spock might have considered doing so. "According to our current trend of encounters, we are likely to have another misunderstanding in the process of rectifying the previous one. I…do not know what to expect from him. If I could simply understand…he would not catch me off guard and I would be better able to handle the situation."

Uhura's eyes widened a bit and she smirked. "If that's all you need, then I may just have an idea."

Spock cast her a subtly suspicious look. She just smiled in return.

"If you want to understand him a little better, but you obviously can't get that from him, because you two are too busy having misunderstandings, where do you think you should go?"

"I confess I am having difficulty following your thought process to its conclusion."

"McCoy."

Spock stiffened, giving her what could, by Vulcan standards, be considered a dirty look. "That is unadvisable. The relationship between the doctor and myself is less than productive. I suspect any attempt to seek data on Jim from the man will prove not only unsuccessful, but entirely detrimental."

"McCoy is Kirk's friend. If he sees you actually making an attempt he might be a lot more helpful than you'd think. Besides, of all people, he's the only one who knows what Kirk's really like. Don't think I haven't figured out that his reputation was falsified, to say the least. How much, I don't know, but he was defiantly playing down his strengths and playing up his encounters."

Spock considered the statement for only a moment. "How may you be sure Doctor McCoy is privy to more than the rest of the Captain's acquaintances?"

She fixed him with an annoyed look. "Now you're just fishing for excuses not to talk to him."

The Vulcan science officer carefully switched away from that statement. "If I am unable to speak to Jim, I may seek further aid from McCoy."

"Good." Uhura beamed. "Now. I'm curious about these Vulcan dishes Kirk's been programming into the replicators. Want to try some?"

Spock allowed an indulgent smile. "Will we be dinning here?"

"I figured we would." She admitted. "It's a little late to be dealing with the dining hall and I've never been a fan of the officer's mess hall."

… .. .

Jim panted, sliding down the wall and resting his head against the cool metal. The heavy bag he had been attacking swung back and forth mockingly, daring him to return. He peeled his shirt free, shivering in delight at the cool air on his chest. The extreme heat, countered by points and lines of freezing sweat, felt like heaven. With a grunt, he lifted himself from the ground. It was late. His head swam a bit from the quick motion.

As he waited for the ring of black to clear from his vision, he fumbled his shirt back on. No one was likely to be up and in the halls this late, but it wouldn't do for the Captain to be running through the ship shirtless when there wasn't an emergency.

He headed back to his room at a quick trot, eyes catching on Spock's door as he passed. It was none of his business. As long as he kept telling himself that, he wouldn't do something monumentally stupid like go in there and try to talk to him. In his room, he considered the shower for a minute and decided against it. He'd shower in the morning. He was tired now and all he needed was to collapse into bed.

… .. .

That proved not to be a particularly good plan, as he woke in the morning feeling utterly uncomfortable. With a groan of discomfort, Jim wiped at his eyes and headed into the bathroom to clean off the grime.

He nearly collided with his half-naked first officer.

Spock blinked at him in surprise, setting down his hairbrush. Jim's cheeks felt like they were on fire. Sure, they shared a bathroom, and there had been the week long incident where they were stuck together, but he'd never really looked at the other man when he was dripping wet and ruffled. With all the grace of an ally cat that had its tail stepped on, Jim scampered back out of the room. What the hell? It wasn't like there was anything he hadn't seen before.

He couldn't help the oddly familiar thought: Uhura's going to kill me.

Half an hour later, Jim braved the bathroom again. It was blissfully empty and he issued lock commands to ensure it stayed that way.

When he finally made it to the bridge, the entire Alpha crew was already there. Jim made a point of not looking in Spock's direction or at Uhura. He felt both of their eyes on him though. It took all his badass creed not to flush.

"Sulu report."

A strange tension suddenly eased from the bridge crew. Some of them may still not have been on Kirk's side, but there was something about his use of formal titles that put everyone on edge. Sulu turned in his chair, offering a smirk.

"Traveling at Warp 5 sir. There are no current problems."

"Good." Jim returned the smirk with one of his own. "Chekov?"

"Ve are on course Keptin. ETA iz six days."

"Alright." Jim crossed his legs and leaned on the side of his chair. "Uhur…Lieutenant Uhura. Report."

She turned to him with out scowling, the first time she'd blatantly looked in his direction without malice since the fight. "You have a message from Admiral Barnett. All accommodations have been made for our guests."

"Shit." Jim groaned, rubbing his face. "Okay. I'll take the message in the conference room. Commander, report."

Spock turned to look at Jim, and caught him pointedly not looking. "All scans are normal Captain."

"Okay. Good." Jim stood, and then paused, glancing down at his PADD.

The damn thing was doing an awfully good job lately of not letting him just walk off. He glanced over at Spock, noticing how the man was still watching him. With a sigh he waved it in the air at Spock.

"Was what you wanted to talk about on the schedule something drastic, like, stop it from being sent out to be approved by the personnel bad?"

"No, Captain." Spock raised an eyebrow, as if asking why he would have allowed Rand to give it to Jim if he had a complaint like that.

"Okay. Uhura, send this out." He handed the PADD to her, mildly distracted. "Tell everyone to have their responses to it within the week. Any questions can be directed to me. Spock, we can discuss what you wanted to talk about it later."

With that he turned on his heel and left, marching to the conference room. His heart was thundering at a hundred miles an hour, threatening to pound its way through his ribcage. Why was talking to the two of them so damn hard? He should just suck it up and congratulate them.

With a groan at how complicated his life was, Jim flopped down into the head seat at the conference table and brought up the video message. Barnett was glowering at him from the frozen still. What a wonderful start to the day. With a little huff, Jim pressed the button for the video to start and kicked his feet up on the table. No one could see him in there, so he could act as immature as he liked.

He winced as the video started with Barnett literally yelling at him. In the precious second it took to lower the volume, he was sure damage had been done to his ears. They rang uncomfortably, reminding him of just how upset the other man was.

"It's not your job to question us! Do the paperwork we ask for or you will get brought up on a court marshal."

Jim rolled his eyes, tuning out most of the angry message. He'd sent a 'polite' letter to the admirals, asking why they would need such a superfluous amount of paperwork. There were documents he was filing where they only thing written on them was redundant details like "No Specimens Collected" or "No Shots Fired" or "No Damage Taken." Only in a lot more words because there was an official way to fill these thing out if you wanted to say they were completely unnecessary. Most captains didn't bother filling out the reports, since it was assumed they'd turn in all the ones necessary.

When Jim got tired of the tirade telling him to do his job and they'd be the one's to decide what was and wasn't necessary, he shut the video off and told the computer to transcribe it. Briefly scanning the remainder, he found nothing noteworthy.

If they wanted to play that way, fine.

He headed back to the bridge, catching Rand on his way. "I need you to bring me a PADD. I've got a few reports I need to write for Starfleet brass."

"Yes Sir. Will you be on the bridge?"

"Yeah. You'll find me there."

Everyone was silent as he walked back onto the bridge, giving him looks of interest. He knew he didn't look happy, but maniacal was probably appropriate. There was no way he was going to let them kick him around. If there was one thing he'd proven in the academy, it was that he would do all the extra work it took to get what he wanted. There were reports he could file for just about everything, and it was about time he buried them ass deep in so much paperwork they would have to tell him to stop.

When Rand returned with the PADD he requested, he set to work on the longest, most complicated report there was to say he got the message sent by the admiral and had watched it. There were technically three forms he could send Barnett that would need his and another two admirals to sign off on them. He hated paper work, but this? _This_ was going to be well worth it.

… .. .

Around lunch, his crew snuck off to eat and Jim was still writing reports for the admirals. There were so many things to report on and so much time to do it in.

"What the hell is this Jim?" Bones stormed onto the bridge, waving a PADD at the man.

He could learn to hate those damn devices. "Don't know. Can't see it with you waving it like that."

"What are all these forms you forwarded me? Some of these are ridiculous and redundant."

Jim grinned, innocent until prove guilty. "Oh, those? They're helpful suggestions. See, the admirals keep asking me for excessive paperwork on our missions, so I though 'Hey! I bet they'd love reports on all the minor day to day details I can report.' Now, you don't have to do them, but I'd be eternally grateful if you could find the time to have yourself or one of your other doctors fill some of those out."

McCoy was staring at him, flabbergasted for a moment. "They've been giving you extra work?"

"Yup. So I'm returning the favor. They'll be so wrapped up in my shit by the time I'm done they won't know which end of the Enterprise they've got shoved up their ass."

McCoy laughed. "Oh God. Did none of them talk to your professors? I'll help. Get Scotty in on it."

"Oh, I have." Jim was positively manic in his glee. "I was thinking about sending requests to all of the departments. God knows the science department could keep them so wrapped up in paperwork that no other ship in the fleet would have time to get dealt with."

"You're an evil man." McCoy shook his head. "Do you think you can get the hobgoblin in on it?"

Jim frowned. "I wasn't thinking I'd make it optional."

"Why?"

"I…uh…happened upon some correspondences between Spock and the admirals…" Jim grimaced at the disapproving look he received. "He encouraged them to go ahead with their burying me in paperwork."

"I don't approve of you hacking his files." McCoy gave him a look of exasperation. "Fill free to bury him in paperwork for that though."

"Glad you approve." Jim leaned back in his seat.

"I didn't approve."

"Bye Bones."

"Jim, I didn't approve. Don't hack his files."

"I'll visit later."

"No you won't. And I didn't approve you doing that, damn it."

Seeing he was getting nowhere, McCoy stormed off, back to the Sickbay. Jim hadn't left his seat by the time everyone returned. Still buried in his work, he offered a quick wave to the crew. It was about half an hour later when he realized he had no idea how to fill out a certain section of the paperwork he was doing. Did they even still teach that?

"Hey, Sulu." Jim glanced up, giving an awkward grimace to his pilot. "You aced all three of your command writing courses, right?"

"Uh…yeah. Why?"

"How do you fill in a…XZ-15 B sub channel? I don't think I ever learned that one." The bridge was a very stupefied kind of quiet.

"Seriously?" Sulu got up to look at the PADD. "How did you even find one of those? And why do you need to fill it out? That's ancient."

"I looked for it." Jim shrugged. "I wanted to make sure to get some changes approved, so I went the strictest rout."

"Changes to what?" He asked incredulously. "This document might as well be asking for a complete overhaul on the ship! And that sub channel only gets used when you have to do some dangerous engine work mid-warp."

"Yeah, well, Scotty didn't want to wait." Jim shrugged, squirming a bit at the plethora of eyes scrutinizing him.

"Is this…" Sulu frowned, scanning through what Jim already had written. "You aren't seriously using this document for approval on an experiment, are you?"

"Yeah…why?"

"Because you don't _need_ it. File a regular." Sulu huffed, handing the PADD back. "Since you won't actually be using the engines in your experiment, just working down there with some spare parts, you don't need all this."

"Trust me." Jim grinned. "I do."

"Captain." Spock had made his way over to the chair some time during their discussion and was inspecting the document over Jim's shoulder.

Said Captain leapt out of his seat, falling to the ground as he did. Damn sneaky Vulcans. It was no surprise the bridge broke out into laughter. He had to blink to get his vision to refocus from the sudden movement.

"Uh…Yeah?" Jim asked warily, still seated on the floor.

"If I may be of assistance?" Spock reached his hand out for the PADD.

Jim nearly threw it at him. "Yeah. Sure. Okay."

Spock looked it over, eyebrow slowly climbing the farther he got. When he reached the end, both eyebrows were hidden in his hairline. Jim would have found it amusing if he wasn't still trying to get his heart under control. Seriously, he was going to die of a heart attack if that kept up.

Spock jotted something down quickly on the PADD, fingers flying through the motions. A smug little smirk in place, he handed it back. Jim glanced down immediately, and saw that his dark haired First Officer had finished filling it out.

"I…what? Why did you finish it for me?"

"It should prove an interesting experiment." Spock answered wryly.

Jim gave him a weak little grin and clambered back into his chair. "Okay. Uhura, could you send these out to the admirals?"

"Of course." She typed a few things on her console, accessing the PADD, only to promptly turn to him in shock. "Captain! There are thirty-seven documents here for me to send!"

He shrugged. "I've been busy."

"Obviously." She turned back to her work with a bemused look of amusement.

"Uh…thanks, Commander." Jim glanced at Spock quickly, eyes immediately dropping away to the arm of his chair.

"Your gratitude is unnecessary, but accepted." Spock inclined his head and returned to his seat.

Okay. So that was awkward.

Jim gritted his teeth, pressing lightly at his temple. A rather furious headache had formed behind his eyes sometime after his tenth document. Now it was a screaming migraine. He'd lower the lights, but supposedly they needed all that blinding light to work properly. Seriously who designed the bridge to have these lights _everywhere_? He felt like he was in a small sun.

Jim shook his head to clear it, and immediately regretted the decision. The pain sent a wave of nausea over him and his stomach heaved in protest. With a soft groan, he buried his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees.

"Keptin?" Chekov's voice carried over softly.

"Yeah?" Kirk choked out, not bothering to look up.

"You are unvell?"

"I'm fine." Jim forced himself to sit up and look at the young navigator.

His vision swam with the effort and for a second there were two seventeen year old whiz kids at his helm. Okay…maybe his head hurt a bit more than he thought. That damn dark ring was around his vision again. With an effort, he gripped the arm of his seat tightly and stood.

"On second thought I-" He didn't finish as the darkness around the edge of his vision immediately rushed in, blanketing him in oblivion.

Everyone sprang from their seats as the Captain crashed to the floor. Spock was the first to reach him, practically diving to the ground next to the blond. Kneeling, he pressed his fingers to Kirk's wrist, checking his pulse. It was fast, shallow, his skin fevered to the touch. It was with a jolt of alarm that Spock realized he couldn't feel the effervescent hum of Jim's emotions.

"Alert Sickbay. Lieutenant Sulu, take the Conn." Spock ordered even as he slid his arms under Jim and lifted him.

His heart nearly stopped at what he found when he raised him up. Jim was light in his arms, unfamiliarly so. He could feel the sinew of the man's muscles through his shirt, strained and delicate, not at all like the Captain he knew. How long had Jim let this go on? How long had he been slowly killing himself with neglect?

Spock ran. He was fast through the halls, earning looks of surprise and confusion. It wasn't everyday the first officer ran _away_ from the bridge, let alone carrying the Captain as he did. His normally fast heart beat was racing, a constant thrum that was surely bad for his health. Jim always seemed to be bad for his health. He would speak to him when he woke. He had to. Whether he was the direct cause of Jim's self-neglect, or simply one of many factors, he could not allow it to go on. If necessary, he would force the Captain to take better care of himself.

It was no surprise that the second he walked through the door, McCoy was on top of them. A single look had him directing them to a bio bed as he scanned the limp man.

"What the hell happened?"

"I believe the preferred phrase is 'he passed out'?" Spock settled him into the bed, eyebrows drawn ever so slightly.

McCoy snorted. "Okay, so he fainted. How?"

"He had been…holding his head in his hands. When he stood, he lost consciousness." Spock was still staring down at him, as if he could discern the cause of his ailment by simply staring long enough.

"Great." McCoy growled, looking over his readings. "His blood sugar is dangerously low. And he's experiencing ketosis. Perfect. That's what he gets for not eating."

Spock tensed. "Doctor. How long had he been subjecting himself to malnutrition?"

McCoy hissed, glancing up at him in distaste. "What do you mean malnutrition? He probably forgot to eat this morning."

"Doctor, he has lost an unhealthy amount of weight." Spock disagreed, tearing his eyes from Jim to level a glare on the brunette.

"Shit." McCoy groaned, stabbing a few hypos in his friend's neck. "I haven't really had time to check up on him. He does look like shit. Damn it Jim."

"How long will it take to return the Captain to full health?"

"Honestly, I don't know." McCoy sighed. "He'll be up and moving around in a day, but I can only do so much with nutrient supplements and force feeding him. I haven't seen him this distracted since…well…"

Spock glanced at the other man, careful not to let his curiosity show. "Since…?"

"Since he visited the memorial the day after his promotion." McCoy admitted softly. "They have pictures, you know. He spent the entire night looking through every one of them. He was considering getting you a copy of one of the pictures of your mother, but he didn't know how you'd take it."

"I see." Spock turned back to the unconscious man, eyes softening. "He is uniquely considerate."

"Yeah." McCoy sighed. "He is."

"I am the cause of his current distress, then?" Spock asked plainly, eyes never leaving Jim's face.

"Yeah. You are." There was a touch of bitterness in his voice.

Spock reached down, brushing his fingers across Jim's temple as he pushed his hair from his face. His skin was no longer feverish; whatever McCoy gave him already working.

He missed the bewildered look on McCoy's face and the sharp inhalation of breath that accompanied it. His eyes followed the Vulcan's fingers across Jim's face and found himself at an utter loss for words. It was such an unprecedented gesture.

Spock retrieved his hand quickly, acting as though he had not just done something completely out of character. "I shall endeavor to rectify this."

That snapped McCoy out of it. "Just what do you intend to do, exactly?"

"I wish to understand him." Spock tore his eyes away, meeting McCoy's fully. "He is both my colleague and my friend. If I must work to prove this to him, then I shall."

Bones stifled his snort, because now was not the time to be amused. "Great. Now if only you two could manage to actually make ends meet. Frankly, I'm getting a bit sick of this line dance you've got going on."

"I am unsure what a dance style has to do with my and Jim's interactions."

"One step forward and two steps back, Spock." McCoy sighed, snapping his fingers at a nurse and directing her to retrieve an IV.

"…I see."

"So…You and Uhura?" He made a pointed inquiry, easing the needle for the IV into Jim's arm.

Spock straightened, folding his arms behind his back. "The Captain was mistaken in his observations. I believe the phrase Nyota used was 'caught us at a bad time'. Has this misunderstanding also been a source of distress for him?"

McCoy paused, choosing his next words carefully. "He was planning on fighting the brass tooth and nail to make sure you two could serve on the same ship. If that didn't work, he said he'd lie to them and say you weren't involved with each other anymore."

Spock's eyes fell to the Captain, widening ever so slightly. "I do not understand. After I have made such an affront, he still wishes to have me as his First Officer?"

"That's just the way Jim is." Bones sighed, patting the unconscious man's arm affectionately. "He doesn't think you did anything wrong, anyway. He knows he messed up."

Spock turned to him seriously, eyes slightly darkened with determination. "You are his closest friend, are you not?"

McCoy went ridged, bristling at the tone. "Yeah. I am. Why?"

"Am I correct in deducing that you not only know the actions he took, but also the reasoning behind them?"

"Oh I know alright." McCoy snarled, though the tone was not, oddly, directed at Spock.

"Why did he kiss me?"

McCoy hissed, slapping his hand over Spock's mouth and snapping his head around to survey the room. Fortunately, no one was close, and Spock had kept his voice low so as not to disturb Jim. With a firm glare, he removed his hand.

"Good God man. Watch what you say! The walls have ears here you know."

"Unlikely, Doctor." Spock quirked his eyebrow. "I understand now that he wished to prove to me he was amendable to my suggestion of friendship. What I do not understand was why he chose that gesture, which he immediately regretted."

McCoy glowered, crossing his arms. "I can't tell you that. It's privileged."

Spock tilted his head to the side, inquisitive. "Doctor-patient confidentiality?"

"No. Best-friend-not-my-business-to-spread-his-shit confidentiality."

Spock nodded his head once in understanding. "Could you perhaps explain another occurrence, then?"

"That depends, doesn't it. You should know better than to ask for a guaranteed yes or no before I have all the details. I don't promise things I don't know all the details for."

"…During the…incident, Jim…experienced a rather…alarming emotion." Spock glanced at the man, as if he weren't sure he should be sharing.

"Jim's probably already shared everything there is to know about 'the incident', Spock." McCoy prompted him. "You aren't breaking his trust by telling me when I already know it."

"Very well." He shut his eyes, taking a barely audibly, deep breath. "The closest description I can attribute to this emotion…is self-loathing."

"God Damn It!" McCoy shouted, slamming his palm against the monitor above the bio bed. "Damn it Jim."

"McCoy?" Spock was doing a very good job of not showing how shocked he was.

"_He_ has nothing to feel bad for." McCoy insisted. "He isn't to blame for what that…"

McCoy took a deep breath, calming himself. Spock's nerves sang with anxious energy. That what? Was the volatile doctor referring to a person? The incident itself? If Jim was not to blame for the actions he took, than who? Surely, McCoy knew Jim was well old enough by human standards to be held accountable for his deeds. So who would he have to blame for his actions? Who held enough sway over the man to incline him to do something he would not have chosen himself?

McCoy let out a strangled sigh, staring at Spock. "He has to tell you himself. Who knows…maybe you can help him."

"Help him? In what way?"

"Jim isn't as well adjusted as he likes everyone to believe. That's all I'm going to tell you. I guess having me around helped a bit, but someone like you may just be able to balance him out."

"You are most perplexing." Spock murmured crossly.

McCoy had the audacity to laugh, even as he herded the other man from Sickbay. "Welcome to the human world. Go get back to work you point-eared bastard."

Spock allowed a slight huff once he was in the privacy of the hall. It was amazing how there always seemed to be a clear place near the entrance of the Sickbay, devoid of personnel. That trip had been everything short of enlightening. It was beginning to become extremely frustrating attempting to decipher anything those two men did. He wasn't sure why that should be surprising to him, since he had noted this quality in Jim from the first moment he laid eyes on him.

He pushed the thoughts aside, knowing he had work to do.

He also needed to explain to the bridge crew their Captains suicidal stupidity and negligence.

… … .. . .. … …

**So who wants to know what ketosis is?**

**It's a fun little sickness that causes liver damage, among other things, caused by not eating certain things in your diet…protein things. Excluding everything is a surefire way to develop it. And…yeah, yay for oversimplification.**

**So now you know.**

**And knowing if half the battle…okay…I'm done.**

**So don't starve yourself.**


	18. Chapter 18

…**Don't own.**

**Arg. I upload an extra chapter for you, and then end up putting this one up late in the day...I swear that wasn't intentional.**

… … .. . .. … …

"Are you going to lie there all day?" McCoy growled, yanking the IV from Jim's arm with careful precision.

"Ung." Jim groaned emphatically, throwing his arm over his face.

"Get up. It's breakfast time." McCoy hauled the other man up by the arm, having none of his attitude.

"What happened?"

"You blacked out on the bridge yesterday." Bones growled. "What the hell do you think you're doing? You've lost fifteen pounds since you've were tethered to that damn Vulcan. Even if we pretended that wasn't an alarming amount of weight, you haven't had enough time to lose it in. You haven't been sleeping enough. You're killing yourself. If you don't pull yourself together there won't even be enough of you left to declare you unfit as captain."

"Bones." Jim let out a beleaguered moan. "Please don't lecture me. It's too early for that."

"No Jim, it's almost too late. The kind of damage you've done to your self…You can't get blood from a turnip Jim and I can't heal you if you're dead."

"Bet I could." Jim offered a horrid grin. "I'd find a way. Just like you would find a way to bring me back."

"Jim…" The warning tone was enough to wipe the grin off the other man's face.

"I'm sorry." Jim shrugged. "I wasn't trying to."

"Yeah, sure." McCoy scowled, heading to the comm. console. "Sickbay to the Bridge."

Jim's eyes widened as Spock's voice filtered over the comm. "Yes, Doctor?"

"He's awake now. Get your ass down here and deal with him."

"…Very well."

McCoy sighed, turning around to yell at Jim a bit more. It was with a touch of horror that he realized Jim had somehow escaped in the moments he was speaking to Spock.

… .. .

Spock stood from the captain's chair, giving an acknowledging nod to Sulu. The crew was in a much better mood since Spock's return to the bridge after their Captain's collapse. Not because their Captain was sick, obviously, but because they'd seen the first officer so clearly _not_ angry at him. He was far from being worried or any other such form of emoting, but this likely meant their most recent feud was over.

He was quick to the Sickbay, ignoring the rather unusual feeling of apprehension that pervasively attempted to make itself known beneath his barriers. It was just _Jim_. How bad could this go?

"He's missing!" McCoy snarled as soon as he walked through the doors.

"Missing?" The Vulcan raised an eyebrow.

"He ran off when he heard you were coming down here."

"I am shocked you would keep such poor track of him, doctor." Spock very nearly scowled. "The computer is unable to locate him?"

"It says he's in the rec room. I had it checked, he isn't." McCoy did scowl.

"Computer, locate the Captain."

"Captain Kirk…location…unknown." The computer droned.

"Apparently he has programmed different responses based on who is asking for him." Spock walked over to the communicator, keying in a sequence. "Ensign Chekov. Make a ship wide announcement to keep watch for the Captain. If he is found, inform them to alert security to bring him to Sickbay."

"Yes Kommander." Chekov's voice filtered back through the device.

"That's just going to make him hide!" McCoy protested.

"Precisely." Spock's look could almost be defined as sly, even as he entered another code. "Lieutenant Scott. Have you seen the Captain?"

"No. I was of the impression he was in Sickbay, Comm'nder." Scotty sounded a bit exasperated, rather than confused.

"He has fled Sickbay. Please have your men check the Jefferies tubes for him."

"Oh. Aye. We can do that."

"Have security send him back to Sickbay if he is found."

"Yes sir."

"So now what?" McCoy snarled. "We wait for someone to find him? You might not have figured this out, but if Jim doesn't want you to find him, you won't."

"Do not be so sure." Spock folded his arms behind his back and headed for the doors. "Have Sickbay checked again. I will inform you if I locate him."

"I've checked the whole damn Sickbay. Give me more credit than that. And just what do you think you can do? Have security link their hands and walk through the ship covering every square inch?"

"Unnecessary. The intricacies of the ship would prove detrimental so such a search method. I will find him."

"You didn't listen to a damn word I said you green-blooded hobgoblin! He doesn't want found. The only thing you can do is take control of the ship until he snaps out of it."

"You suggest mutiny?" Spock quirked his eyebrow at him, clearly unamused. "That course of action should not prove necessary. You are acting under the assumption that Jim does not desire to be found."

"Don't piss down my back and tell me it's rain!" McCoy yelled, leveling a ferocious glare on the other man. "He ran away because of _you_. If I find him, I won't let you near him."

"That is your decision, Doctor." Spock left to the sound of Chekov's voice filtering over the communication system.

… .. .

Jim swore up and down, ducking behind another set of conference doors as people made their way through the halls. Trust Spock to employ the _whole_ ship in trying to find him. He'd probably even got Scotty in on it, which meant the Jefferies tubes were only going to be safe for a few more minutes. And it wouldn't be long until he hacked into the computer software and reset it, making Jim a standing target.

That meant he had to get somewhere the computer wouldn't find him, trick it, or let Spock find him. Or just go with the first two.

Jim jumped up on the table, wrenching open a ventilation duct. After he wormed in, he pulled it back shut. The ventilation was tight, and nowhere near as effective as the Jefferies tubes, but it would get him close to the holodeck. And that was where he would implement his master plan.

His shoulders pulled with the effort of dragging himself around, slowly pushing himself through. The action caused his shoulder blades to push at an awkward angle and his hands to chafe. The faint flutter of filtering air kept him cool, but only helped the ache in his muscles start. He'd have to thank Bones later for the nutrients and sleep aid. He was actually feeling pretty good at the moment.

Jim hesitated, listening for people below before dropping out of the vent. No one was near by. He eased himself out and closed the vent again. The computer kept track of those. He'd have to delete his access information so it couldn't be tracked.

He slipped into the holodeck and immediately crouched at the panel by the door. It was easy enough to force a lock not even Bones could override. He spun around when he finished and darted to the computer. This was the tricky part.

With a quick look, he was relieved to find Spock hadn't gone through his coding yet. He probably hadn't looked yet, too busy organizing everyone around him. Good. Jim would probably have just enough time to set his subroutines into work. God that was going to piss Spock off. He'd been working on it in his free time, mostly with the excuse of defense in case of an attack. You never knew when you'd need to hide from someone on your own ship.

That said, locking out his placement was the easiest thing he could do. He didn't want to put all of his routines up, but he'd need a couple to keep everyone busy.

It was time to set up a few layers. After Spock fixed the first one, it would _appear_ to be fixed, but instead the rough deactivation would set off another program. This one would randomize his position every few minutes. To finesse that one, you'd have to break past a chunk of code he'd set as a tripwire. As soon as that code was tampered with, it would make it look like the computer was crashing. It would then reboot with an apparently normal structure…again.

And again it would start another program.

This final one, which was the hardest to tie in to the other programs, would give the location of the person asking, rather than the person being looked for, the first time. The second, and every consecutive time after that, it would repeat everything they say a second behind them.

Childish? Yes. Annoying? Of course. Devious? Perhaps. Perfect? Well…it had the James T. Kirk seal of approval.

Mean while, he'd have a completely separate program in place. This one wasn't relegated to messing with people who were looking for Kirk. Simply put, it was a blind spot. Almost no one used the holodeck, so it wouldn't come as a surprise if it never reported anyone in there, which is exactly what that program was designed to do. Even with the other ones fixed, the computer would list anyone in the room as 'location unknown'. That was all because he worked out a reverse feed to bypass the room and make security act as if it didn't exist.

The patch took three sentences of code to direct the entire system around the room without the computer saying 'hey, there's a hole in my ship'. Sure, it was a page long sentence each, but well worth it. It looked so natural, only Spock would find it, and he'd have to be specifically searching that part of the code for it.

After all the subroutines though, Spock would be looking for another Kirk specific code. Further reinforcing that idea would be the fact that Jim wasn't letting _anyone_ in with him, so no one else would show up as missing. Of course, he had his communicator on him, so if there was an emergency, he could be reached. Or, you know, if anyone thought hard enough to consider he would answer anyway.

Pleased that he'd finished his little trap and erased any clues that could show where he was, Jim decided to make use of his little escape room. He _was_ in the holodeck, after all.

… .. .

Vulcans didn't growl. Nor did they send particularly unfriendly looks at Yeomen who wouldn't stop pestering them. That did not, however, prevent Spock from secretly desiring to do so.

It seemed everyone on the ship was prone to asking why the Captain was putting so much effort into hiding.

As Spock had no answer, he simply set about finding the other man. Once he had everyone to their work, he sat down to reset the computer. It was laughably easy(though he heroically refrained from doing so) and that was the first sign that this was going to be a very long day.

McCoy had finished his re-sweep of the Sickbay and was hovering over Spock's shoulder while he worked. Everything appeared normal and when the computer answered as to the Captain's location, he had a team sent out to find him. He wasn't there when they showed up, and the computer quickly stated a new location. Somewhere close enough to be plausible. The chase continued for half an hour before the computer made too large a jump in its randomization and the slightly miffed commander began searching for this new section of code.

He was a little hesitant to destroy it. As a programmer himself, he found a deep appreciation for the details involved. After a moment's uncertainty, he looked for a way to break the coding and separate it from the running programs, effectively deactivating it without destroying it. It took some work to find, but he finally located the coding connecting it to the active program and removed it.

All at once the computer had a cascade failure. He set someone else to repair it and started in on another computer. Access was completely blocked to the system as it forced itself through a hard restart.

When it finally registered itself as accessible again, Spock plunged back into the programming. The other computer was still under the impression that it was suffering from an indescribable attack from enemy computers. It was, fortunately, isolated in this illusion. When the stoic Vulcan pulled open the programming, it appeared to be in working order. The previous routine was still sequestered.

Spock very nearly scowled. How stupid did his Captain imagine him?

With a touch of digging, he found the metaphorical bomb Kirk had uploaded and removed the code working on the other computer. That rectified, he followed the faint trail, finally locating the third subroutine. It took him merely a moment to decipher it's purpose and remove it.

"Computer, what is the Captain's location?"

"Location…unknown."

"Damn it!" McCoy howled. "How many of these blasted things does he have?"

"I have removed the last of them, Doctor. This is an entirely different program." Spock frowned, pouring over the console.

"How can you be sure? Jim's a genius."

"You are underestimating my own abilities, Mr. McCoy."

"Oh so now it's Mister?"

Spock frowned, a small, negligible thing, and let his arms fall to his side. His hand brushed across the communicator there, surprising him. The Captain was prone to leaving his communicator somewhere he could not access it. Still, he had said he would never be unavailable. It was certainly worth a try.

Spock pulled the device from his waist, setting the frequency to Jim's. "Captain."

"What the hell are you doing man?"

There was a faint popping sound, followed by the communicator bursting to life with raucous laughter. "It's about time."

"God damn it Jim!" McCoy shouted at the communicator.

Spock shut off the speaker and quickly ordered the computer to track the signal. Jim's voice broke through before it could respond.

"Are you two working together?"

"Affirmative."

"Location unknown: tracking unsuccessful." The computer announced.

"Hey!" Jim didn't sound annoyed. "Are you trying to track my location using my communicator?"

"It was clearly unsuccessful." Spock deadpanned. "Why are you behaving in this manner?"

"Don't tell me you've never played hide and seek before." Jim sounded like he was pouting.

"This is not a game, Captain." Spock's voice very nearly tilted over into annoyed, but he held it steady. "Your immaturity is unbecoming of a Starfleet officer."

There was a moment of silence on the other end before Jim responded. "Didn't like the last subroutine?"

"It was removed before it had a chance to be implemented." Now Spock did let a bit of his annoyance seep through into his voice.

McCoy watched blankly, taking in the tense posture of the dark haired man in front of him and Jim's tone of voice. Why was it always a war of attrition between theses two?

"What?" Jim cawed. "You can't do that! That isn't playing by the rules."

"I was unaware there were rules established for this situation."

"Well…but you weren't supposed to find it until after it took effect. How did you find it?"

"Your programming was, regrettably, too well written. The sabotage would normally have left some damage to the initial program."

"Oh." Jim let out something similar to a laugh, but not quite right. "Okay then. Good luck finding me."

"Captain, this has gone on long enough. I will no longer indulge you."

Jim didn't respond. Spock closed the communicator and returned it to his hip. With a sharp click he turned around and razed McCoy with a thoroughly unimpressed, emotionless look.

"The Captain is no longer fit for duty. Make a note of the time."

"Spock…" McCoy frowned. "If I do that, I'll go in his records."

"I believe you will find it will not." Spock quirked an eyebrow, almost in a conspiratorial manner. "Once I have found the Captain, the computer will no longer have records of your decision."

"Then why am I making it?"

"If this program is similar in nature to the others, it is no doubt correlated to the fact that Jim is captain of this ship. While not necessarily working on the basis of authority, the previous programs were superlative coding in all but one place. Jim has programmed them to recognize the Captain's position and withhold it. It was an indolent move on his part, as he knew he would remain Captain and had no need of specifying it to himself."

"I don't like this." McCoy announced, but did as he was told.

"Computer, locate non-active crewmember James T. Kirk." Spock announced confidently.

"Location…unknown."

Spock nodded, plunging into the computer again. In the process, he removed McCoy's file removing Kirk from command, true to his word. He was positive this was unlike the other programs.

With a pause, he considered that. The only other way to hide himself would be to create a blind spot in the security. There were far too many rooms to consider going through the entire code to find the one he tampered with. It would be sufficiently narrowed if he considered where Jim could hide.

Security had already checked their rooms, the rec rooms, the observation decks, and the conference and briefing rooms. He couldn't hide in public places and it would be too difficult to hide a single section of the access tubes from security. Further more, he had them searched already. That left a small number of places Jim could be.

It wasn't the holding decks, or in any experiment room.

When he finally found the code, it took him a second to realize what he was looking at. Now he hesitated in an entirely unfamiliar way. He didn't wish to remove it. Theoretically, he could set it aside, as he had the previous coding. But he knew where Jim was now. Why should he remove the program when it was no longer obstructing him? It was a terrifyingly unfamiliar thought, wishing to keep a program that was undeniably detrimental. And yet…

And yet he found himself closing down the program and leaving the room with McCoy in hot pursuit.

… .. .

Jim sighed, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. As much fun as a holodeck could be, he just wasn't enjoying himself. So far he'd managed to alienate his best friend and piss off the one guy he was trying to reconcile things with. He knew that would happen when he ran, but the thought of talking to Spock was utterly terrifying.

And even with his impressive coding, because yeah it was great and it wasn't narcissistic to admit that, he'd managed to disappoint Spock again.

Spock. A strange thought had Jim typing something into the console. With in seconds, the scenery around him changed, wheat fields dissolving into hard, painted stone. It was stunning. The blast of heat that accompanied it stole his breath for a second, returning it with some labor. Jim groaned in enjoyment, closing his eyes against the bright sun and tilting his head back. The warmth seeped into his skin, too hot, and yet undeniably pleasant.

A bead of sweat trailed down his spine, a poignant contrast to the dry air around him.

"Are you trying to kill yourself? Don't answer that!" McCoy shouted, wrenching Jim from his contemplative silence. "I can't believe you stuck yourself in this damn oven when you're still so weak."

"Shit!" Jim yelped, tumbling into the dirt. "How…"

Jim's question died on his lips as Spock entered the room, the door momentarily visible before disappearing into the hologram again. The dark haired Vulcan quirked an eyebrow, surveying the hot red sands of his home world with a schooled lack of emotion.

"Computer! End Program!" Jim's voice squeaked.

The red sand gave way immediately to the cold walls of the holodeck, the temperature returning to normal. Spock's attention snapped to the blond, searching silently.

"I…uh…I'd never actually gotten a chance to visit Vulcan." Jim murmured, voice sounding stilted and awkward.

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I was not aware you ever wished to."

"Uh…" Jim grimaced, not really sure how to answer that.

"Damn it you two, don't act like I'm not here." McCoy scowled.

Both pairs of eyes flicked to him. As if just remembering he was on the ground, Jim sprang to his feet. He silently cast a desperate, pleading look at Bones. McCoy looked between the two, eyes narrowing as the seconds filled with silence.

"Fine. I'll talk. And both of you had better listen because I'm sick and tired of this."

Jim shuffled in place, finally nodding. Spock inclined his head in agreement.

"I'm tired of listening to both of you say you want to talk and get over this latest bout of stupidity. So this is how it's going to work. Jim wants to explain. You want it explained. Jim won't explain because this is one sided. You know what that means?" McCoy narrowed his eyes on Spock. "It means you're going to share something from your past with Jim."

Spock opened his mouth to reply, but snapped it shut when he saw the horrified look on Jim's face.

"Now." McCoy crossed his arms, frowning. "Am I going to leave and trust you two to actually do this o-"

"Don't!" Jim yelped, cutting him off. "Don't go."

"Okay." McCoy nodded, flashing a look at Spock. "Then it's only fair I share something too. But if any of this leaves this room…"

He needn't finish his warning, both men nodding to him their understanding. Spock's heart was racing, eyes continuously flicking over Jim. The fear there was palpable, gut wrenching. He felt strangely…angry. A deep rage filtered through him, directed at whatever…whoever, could make this normally confident man crumble. His nerves screamed for action, his body aching to destroy the source of the other man's anguish. It was…curious, like nothing he had felt before. It seemed strange to want to protect Jim, not from some threat, but from fear. He wished to help him face it with confidence.

Perplexing.

"Alright." McCoy sighed, keying something into the holodeck.

Immediately, a comfortable sitting room appeared and the southern doctor collapsed onto one of the couches. Jim sat on another, hands in his lap, valiantly not shaking. Spock took a seat in one of the provided chairs, positioning himself so he could keep them both in sight.

"I'll start." McCoy sighed, resting his arms on his legs and bowing his head. "Jim already knows this…so it's all for your benefit you pointy-eared bastard."

"Bones." Jim said softly, almost reprimanding the other man.

"Yeah…sorry. I'm just…" He took a deep breath, calming himself. "I haven't had enough alcohol for this…urg. Bad word choice."

Jim chuckled timidly, leaning over to place a hand on the other man's knee. "Yeah, that really was."

"Okay." He opened his eyes, looking up to meet Spock's. "It happened about two months after I joined Starfleet. A few months after my divorce…I'd finally had too much. Nearly died of alcohol poisoning. I've never had that much to drink again, but it was close. Jim got me to a hospital…kept who I was secret so it wouldn't go on my record. It still scares the shit out of me…that I'd actually tried to drink myself to death. I'm a doctor, man, I knew what I was doing."

"And yet you still drink?" Spock asked, not accusing, or really much of anything.

McCoy found he didn't have the energy to bristle at that. "I'm not an alcoholic. I never drink heavily anymore."

"I see. If you truly practice restraint, then you are unlikely to be in a similar situation. Alcohol is addictive, though."

"Never gotten drunk enough to regret it?" McCoy snorted, getting defensive at that last statement.

"Vulcans have been spared the dubious benefits of alcohol." Spock replied easily, with no hint of mocking in his tone.

"Charming." McCoy growled. "And also your turn. So please, do share."

Spock straightened, brow furrowing ever so slightly. "I am under the impression you desire for me to share something known to relatively few people and of a deeply personal nature. Something I would not wish to be shared."

"Got it in one." Bones crossed his arms, frowning.

Spock raised an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side and dropping his eyes and he considered that statement. "I confess I am unused to such guidelines. Vulcans are prone to neither secrecy, nor shame."

"Bullshit." McCoy snorted. "I could fit what the federation knows about Vulcans in a neat three page pamphlet."

"And yet Uhura managed forty pages." Jim snorted, earning looks from both of them, surprisingly conveying the same amount of disapproval.

Spock returned his gaze to somewhere perfectly calculated between the two. "I am unable to share that information with you, Doctor, as it is not mine to give. It was a calculated decision not to inform others of numerous facts about our culture, even now."

"The point is that you green-blooded hobgoblins are capable and _willing_ to keep secrets. And I'm willing to bet there's something in that secret past you Vulcans are ashamed of."

"This line of questioning is pointless." Spock very nearly narrowed his eyes. "Your speculations are unfounded."

"Can I leave?" Jim asked meekly, earning surprised looks.

"No." McCoy ground out, rolling his eyes. "This whole thing is for you."

Spock took a deep breath, registering the haggard look to Jim's appearance. What ever Jim was hiding, it was eating away at him. The longer he sat arguing with McCoy, the longer he put off their reconciliation. His reluctance was hurting Jim. He steeled himself, focusing on the point between them and forcing his emotions down.

"When I was younger, my peers often sought to coerce emotional responses from me." Spock began, ignoring the snap of their attention to him. "I often made poor choices in attempts to prove myself worthy of respect. The incident of which I shall inform you occurred three months, ten days, nine hours, and twenty-eight minutes after the seventeenth anniversary of my birth. This was not an attempt to prove myself to others. I…had been previously in an altercation that day."

"By nine-thirty in the morning?" McCoy wrinkled his nose, looking disgusted with the thought of Spock's 'emotional responses', or perhaps, rather, at the people who attempted to elicit them.

"Approximately. Though it was a day of rest, my peers were persistent. I was ashamed to have compromised myself by engaging in a fight with them. I…ran away." Spock dropped his eyes to his hands in his lap, shoulders tensing. "I bought a ticket for a transport to earth. It was my intent to leave forever. I…damaged myself. My mother was able to repair the damage with a dermal regenerator when I returned home. As far as I know, she never alerted my father to my actions."

"What did you do?" Jim whispered softly, eyes wide with concern.

Spock bowed his head then, dropping his eyes further from sight. "I had attempted to…remove the signs of my heritage, so that I could possibly pass for human."

"You tried to cut your ears." McCoy wasn't asking, the acknowledgment in his voice full of a clinical understanding.

"Spock…" Jim's voice broke and he barely restrained himself from touching the other man.

"It was illogical." Spock raised his head, voice strong once more. "There are far more noteworthy signifiers of my heritage than my ears. More over, changing my appearance would not change what I was…What I am."

"I…" Jim trailed off, glancing at Bones for encouragement. "I don't know if I can go into detail…yet. I just…can handle that."

"I understand." Spock was surprised by his words this once, finding he truly did.

"I…well…about what I did. It's no excuse…but I haven't ever known anything else." Jim grimaced, glancing at McCoy. "I…don't really know how to say this."

"It's okay, Jim." McCoy very careful kept his hands to himself.

"When I was young…that's all I was ever taught. I didn't learn the right way…to show people how I care…Fuck. I'm doing this wrong…" Jim groaned, placing his head in his hands. "Am I making any sense?"

"No." Spock admitted.

Jim shuddered, eyes turning up to Bones pleadingly. "Please help."

"You didn't have this much trouble telling me." McCoy pointed out.

"You figured most of it out on your own." The blond reminded him.

McCoy sighed, giving him a sympathetic frown. "Okay, fine. Spock, what do you know about human psychology?"

"I admit, I am not overtly familiar with it." Spock was tense, confused and anxious, but he refused to show it.

"Okay. When humans are young, they learn by observing. That means, if they're told or shown how to do something enough times, it becomes second nature. It takes a lot to break that kind of learned behavior. Have you ever learned how to do something, only to later find out it was wrong, and had trouble correcting yourself?"

Spock paused, thinking a moment on the information provided. "I have noticed such tendencies…"

McCoy rolled his eyes, tension in the room be damned. "Okay, well, this is one of those tendencies."

"Your implication would be that Jim observed at a young age that sexual encounters were the accepted means of displaying emotions such as affection, and the concept of friendship." Spock felt a deep stab of frantic worry.

"Got it in one." This time it was Jim who spoke. "I was…_taught_…by someone when I was young."

Spock tensed, eyes darting between the two, finally landing on Jim with dismayed understanding. "You…were subjected to numerous sexual encounters under the pretense of fondness."

"Yeah." Jim intoned gently, a pained sound in his voice. "Yeah. I was. It wasn't…it wasn't as bad as it could have been. And I know it's wrong. But sometimes I panic…and it's the only way I know how to…well…yeah."

"I understand." Spock stood, righting his shirt.

Jim was molested. The thought burned him with such rage and resentment that his vision clouded with green. If he knew the details…what? What could he do? It had clearly been years. Any act of revenge or such would not help Jim. No good could come of harming this person, most likely not even providing closure for the other man.

Jim chewed his lip, watching Bones from the corner of his eye. The doctor was watching Spock closely, but Jim could feel himself being considered as well. Spock looked…well…pissed. He didn't really know why he was so sure of it, but he knew he was.

"Spock…" Jim flinched. "I'm so sorry."

Neither of them expected the reaction Spock had. He slammed his fist into the wall, effectively crashing the program as he damaged the circuitry. McCoy had leapt to his feet. Jim cowered, collapsing to the ground when the couch disappeared beneath him.

"Do. Not. Apologize. To. Me." Spock's voice was a rumbling, livid growl.

With that, he turned on his heel and left the room.

Jim and McCoy exchanged looks.

"What just happened?" McCoy's eyes drew away from the wall, staring blindly at the door.

… … .. . .. … …

**And now you know. Trust me when I say there will be a lot more to it than this. This is just a basis for so much more to come.**

**And there is a reason for _all_ of their angst. It will tie in appropriately. All of it.**


	19. Chapter 19

…**Do not own.**

**As always, my readers and reviewers are so very amazing.**

… … .. . .. … …

"Commander!" Sulu whipped his head around, jumping from the command seat. "Have you found the Captain?"

"He has been located." Spock hissed, sitting down stiffly. "Bridge to engineering."

Everyone continued to watch, on edge. Whatever just happened had obviously put their First Officer on edge, because he was dangerously stoic. Emotionlessness they were used to, but it was rare they considered him robotic.

"Aye, what are ye needing?"

"Send a repair crew to the holodeck."

"The holodeck? Alright…" Scotty sounded confused.

"Spock out." Said Vulcan stood, going to look at the science station a moment before pacing back to the Captain's chair.

"He was on the holodeck?" Uhura asked.

Spock gave her a confused, blank look before he realized she was speaking of the Captain. "Affirmative."

"He iz vell though, da? Not vith the passing out and unconscious?"

Spock tensed, the story and the memories of emotions flooding him a moment. He struggled to fight down the green haze in his vision, briefly considering that his continued presence on the bridge could pose a danger to the crew. He immediately dismissed it and took a firm hold of his bodily functions, righting himself, physically, instantaneously.

"The Captain was conscious upon my leaving him with Doctor McCoy."

"So it's fifty-fifty on if he's still awake?" Sulu joked awkwardly.

"You did not say he vas vell. Kommander, iz the Keptin vell?" Chekov sounded panicked, wide eyes focused on Spock.

The older man took a moment to consider his next statement. "His appears to be as physically and mentally healthy as is usual for him."

It wasn't a lie. He knew nothing of Jim's current mental state. Apparently he knew nothing of his previous mental state as well. He severely doubted that Jim informing him of such an aspect of his past was in any way going to prove more harmful to him. In truth, he was not sure to what degree it was intended to help. Yes, he understood now why Jim had taken the actions he had. But McCoy's cryptic words had left him confused. How was he supposed to assist Jim? How could he 'balance him out'?

With confused, concerned nods, everyone returned to their work.

… .. .

Jim curled in on himself, staring at the damaged wall in confusion and fear. He'd upset Spock. Telling him…he'd upset him. Now Spock was disappointed and upset because Jim wasn't stronger. Because he'd tainted any friendship they could have with his own corrupted past. And Spock...he was so disgusted he didn't want an apology.

"Why the hell did you apologize to him?" Bones snarled, effectively breaking through his mental tirade.

"I…I fucked up. I wasn't strong enough and-"

"No." Bones cut off with a cold hiss. "You are going to take a step back and look at this like a normal, not fucked up person."

"I am fucked up."

"Which is why I'm going to help you." McCoy offered helpfully. "Most normal people, like…oh…_me_, hate it when you apologize right after laying this on them because they don't blame you and just want to hunt down and kill that bastard."

"I already-"

"So when you apologize, we get even angrier at the person who hurt you." Bones continued steamrolling over him. "He may be a cold-blooded elf, but the man has standards."

"He isn't cold."

"Irrelevant, Jim." He rolled his brown eyes, fixing him with an exasperated look. "And not something I care to think about how you know. Moving on. I'm a doctor, not a therapist."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"I can't do much with your mental state. All I can do it keep you alive long enough to hope you can learn to cope."

"Oh." Jim nodded feebly. "Okay. So what's the prescription doc?"

"For one get off this cold ass floor." He smirked, offering his hand to help him up. "Two get some food in you. You've got less sense than road lizard. Or are you planning to need to be skinny enough to disappear sideways?"

"Sometimes I forget you're from Georgia." Jim grinned, accepting the poffered hand.

"…I should smack you for that…Iowa boy." Bones just smiled.

"Anything planned after we eat or are we just winging it?" Jim asked casually.

"About half of step three involves winging it." McCoy shrugged. "It's worked for you so far. Just step up to the podium and be your usual jackass self. I don't see why you don't approach more relationships like that."

"Because those aren't relationships. You only get one night stands out of being a jackass." He reminded.

"I don't know. I figure that Cardassian was fixing to take you home."

"Please don't joke like that." Jim groaned. "I just about forgotten _that_ mess."

… .. .

"Captain on the bridge!" Jim announced happily, trotting over to his chair.

Spock looked up at him carefully when Jim slapped him on the shoulder. Without a word, he stood and glanced over at McCoy, who nodded. With an inclination of his head, he moved back to his station. Everyone watched the exchange slowly, waiting to see what would happen.

"Did you guys miss me?" Jim leered playfully at his crew.

"Keptin!" Chekov, feeling it was now safe, flung himself at the man, wrapping his arms around his waist. "Yo-mayo! I am feeling your ribs Keptin!"

Jim laughed uncomfortably, peeling the younger man off of him. "I'm fine."

"You must net be the starving yourselfz." Chekov admonished, crossing his arms. "Ve vill be vatching and ensuring zat you eat. From now on you take your meals vith us."

Kirk smiled, patting the man on the head. "Okay. Okay. You and Bones and anyone else who wants to make sure I don't pull that stunt again are welcome to join me for my meals. Now everyone get back to work."

People obliged him immediately, hurriedly turning to their stations. Spock lingered a moment, watching him. Bones caught the movement and stared him down. They both looked away when Kirk caught them glaring at each other. With a roll of his eyes, he cast a beaming smile at Uhura's back. Her spine straightened and she turned slowly to look at him.

"Uhura?" He spoke in a devious sing-song. "Report?"

She shuddered a bit, frowning at him. "Nothing to report sir, everything's been exceptionally quiet. It's…"

"Yeah?" He frowned, sitting up straight.

"No…nothing…I've just never heard the subspace this quiet before."

Jim scowled, biting the inside of his cheek as he thought it over. "It isn't too concerning though? Because you can contact Starfleet if you're worried. Everything _is_ in working order, right?"

"Everything's working…" She hesitated only a second. "It shouldn't be _too_ concerning, but it doesn't sit right with me. I don't think contacting anyone's going to help."

"Alright. Keep your ears open and keep me updated. Let me know immediately if anything, and I mean _anything_ makes you uncomfortable about this. I don't care if you wake up at midnight in a cold sweat you wake me up immediately an tell me. Alright?" His voice had taken that deep, commanding tone he only seemed to use when he was truly concerned.

"Yes Captain." She agreed readily, turning back to her workstation.

"Chekov, report."

"Ve hawe drifted slightly off course, but corrections vere made. ETA is…vell, nouv iz little ower four days."

"Okay. Good. God…our shift is a few hours away from being over, hu? Sulu, report."

"Still traveling at Warp 5. No obstructions."

"Alright. Good. Spock?"

"All scans are…normal." Spock's voice sounded strained, but he did look at Jim.

The blond promptly frowned. "Normal? Then why the hesitation?"

Spock's lips twitched through a microscopic frown of their own. "There is nothing to report, Captain. I apologize if my response was delayed."

"Alright…" Jim furrowed his brow. "Anything else I should know?"

"All experiments are currently functioning properly." Spock returned to facing his station.

Jim sighed, standing up from his seat. McCoy frowned, stepping further onto the bridge as he tried to determine what was about to happen. Jim straightened his shirt and placed his arms at a parade rest behind his back. A sharp cough had everyone's attention back to him, even Spock, who had raised an eyebrow at the formal stance.

"Some of you may have realized I haven't been on the bridge lately." Jim started, earning a few snorted laughs.

He flashed a warm grin at his crew before it fell, leaving a very serious look on his face. "Well, the fact is, that's unacceptable. And I'm sorry. I haven't been behaving like the Captain of a starship. I've been behaving like a kid running away from recruiters his whole life. I'm not that kid anymore. So it's about time I started handling things like a mature adult. I know these first few months have been confusing and stressful for you. Hell, for all of us. Which is why I need you guys here for me. I can only do so much if you don't let me help. We've had some really good teamwork, but I keep undermining that. From now on, I need you to call me on that as soon as it happens. I love this ship, and I love my crew. I don't…"

Jim closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he fought down the knot in his throat. He'd planned this speech over lunch with Bones. Not that he'd told the other man. McCoy was right. He needed to treat his captaincy like he did everything else. And that meant standing up and dealing with the issue. And the current issue was him.

"I don't want to loose what we've got here. You're _my_ crew. Mine. And I'm _your_ captain." He snapped his blazing blue eyes back open, fixing each of his crewmembers with a possessive, piercing look. "It's about time we started acting like it. So…I don't really know how to end this speech. I guess there is no real way to end it. Just…please, help me."

Uhura stood, offering him a ridged salute. Chekov and Sulu were on their feet not a second later, mimicking the action. Soon the entire bridge was on their feet, saluting him. He caught the warm smile Bones flashed him as he drew his hand up as well. Slowly, his eyes fell to Spock, who was watching him, a perfect salute, and blank mask.

"At ease." He whispered, and for the first time in a long while, he really was.

To his surprise, Spock's hands fell together with a sharp sound. It took him a moment to realize the other man was clapping for him. The rest of the crew enthusiastically joined in, and he felt a touch of heat rise to his cheeks. He didn't actually blush, but there was embarrassment in his eyes as he glanced around gratefully.

Spock knew he had shocked the crew when he applauded the other man. What he'd seen when Jim…_Captain_ Kirk spoke was the beginnings of a great man. There were times he doubted him, and he had no illusion that there would not continue to be such times. Even with the confusing matters of their personal lives, however, he could see the conviction in those blue eyes that had originally made him doubt the man could ever be tamed. He suspected now that he didn't need to be.

Something warm raced through him, when Kirk cast that possessive glance in his direction. It was a different fire than his anger that sped through his veins. A fire mirrored in the other man's eyes. To possess and be possessed. Not in ownership, but in companionship. That was how the young captain called people to him and commanded a crew so young and not ready as though they were all veterans. He made them belong, as much to him as to their positions.

In return, did he feel he belonged? He'd said he was their's, but had they ever made him feel as much? Until that single moment, when their eyes connected, Spock hadn't known himself. He hadn't realized just how much he felt this man was _his_ captain. Just how little he wished to leave, even in spite of their trials and tribulations.

It was a feeling that shook him, and yet he didn't shy away from the unfamiliar, frightening thing.

… .. .

"You can't keep avoiding him." McCoy rolled his eyes, prepping the hypospray in his hand.

"I'm not avoiding him!" Jim insisted, eyeing the dreaded device with malicious distrust.

"Uh huh. Tilt your head." He injected it carefully, for once. "That's why for the past two days you've only seen each other on the bridge and one of you always manages to sneak off to avoid each other at the end of your shift or for lunch."

"I don't sneak off. I just…I have stuff to do. I am the captain after all." The blond ensured, rubbing slightly at the tender spot the hypo left.

"Okay. You're up to date on your vaccines now, and thank god you're starting to put a little weight back on. Just don't do it too quickly. And remember the work out regimen I gave you. Not a minute more, you hear? I want you putting on muscle, but you can't burn all the calories you're taking in if you're going to put on weight."

"Bones." Jim interrupted. "I know. How many times do I have to tell you? I know. This isn't the first regimen I've been on."

"Yeah, yeah." Bones griped, scowling as he pushed him off the bio bed. "It damn well better be the last."

"I'm eating!"

"Go talk to the damn goblin so you don't decide not to again."

"I…low blow…" Jim frowned, dusting himself off for show. "And fine. I'll invite him to lunch, okay?"

"Eurg. Fine. You need someone responsible keeping an eye on you. I'll probably have to take my lunch down here today. Stupid vaccines and crap, what with the people coming on board."

"Uh huh. You know we all love you for it." Jim grinned, slapping his arm. "And hey! Chekov and Sulu are responsible."

"The food fight yesterday says otherwise. At least the green-blooded bastard will keep you in line." McCoy smirked.

Jim stuck his tongue out in a great display of maturity. "Yeah, yeah. Hey, I noticed you haven't been making disparaging comments within ear-shot. Don't tell me you're starting to like him. Don't want him to think your xenophobic?"

"Shut up." The older man hissed, flushing slightly. "I just know when to stop picking on a man for his heritage."

Jim froze, looking him over and finally laughing. "You really took that sharing session to heart! Oh boy."

"I'll still call him all the names I want." McCoy reminded him. "It's just about time I picked some more creative ones."

"Yeah. 'K. I have a ship to run. Talk to you later." Jim left, barely holding in his hysterical laughs.

He was a bit early to the bridge. Gamma shift was finishing up, getting ready for the changeover. The day before, the last of the crew men sent in their responses to his proposed shift changes. It had been a resounding yes. Apparently everyone was a bit tired of their shift schedule. He planned on having the first few weeks set up and sent out in a couple days to be implemented immediately. There was, of course, the instruction that if you didn't received schedule information you were always to report to the last shift you were on.

Thank you Spock for that little failsafe.

Think of the devil and he shall appear. Jim offered the stoic man a friendly nod in greeting. Since his little speech on the bridge, they hadn't spoken to each other outside of a professional situation. Jim had also made sure he was up early enough to be well out of his rooms before Spock got up. He wasn't keen on the idea of another bathroom incident.

So far, Spock had made no effort to speak with him.

He grinned as he saw a certain curly-topped genius approach at a run, only to slam into the stoic man with a titter. Spock quirked an eyebrow at Jim, and lowered his gaze to the arms around his waist. Chekov peeled himself free and hurried to his station. Sulu followed after him, shaking his head and offering a lazy salute to his commanders. Jim winked at him and flopped down in his seat.

"Alright." Jim clapped once everyone was in their seats, grinning like a mad man. "We've got just a couple of days left until our new friends join us. I suggest getting all your bad behavior out of the way now because we need to be on our best behavior for the three weeks it takes to get them to New Vulcan."

There were a few laughs and groans from the crew. Jim beamed, winking at Uhura, and earning himself a very confused headshake.

"So here's the deal." Jim interjected, returning the attention to him. "I know three weeks is a long time to behave. I mean, it's almost a month of being good. That's, like, a third of our mission so far. To make up for it, you'll all get a great celebration if you do an awesome job. Spread the news around to the others. After we're done with our diplomatic work, while we're on the way to whatever they make our next mission, we'll have a party. It'll take a lot of work to make it last through _all_ of the shifts, so I'll need my best planners on it. That means you guys, Scotty, Keenser, Giotto, the works."

"Fascinating." Spock quirked his eyebrow at the Captain.

"What?"

"You are using a reward system to encourage proper behavior among the crew."

"Oh, yeah." Jim turned back to the crew with a mock look of ferocity. "If anyone behaves exceptionally poorly they'll be tossed in the brig."

Sulu grinned, raising his hand. Jim snorted, pointing to him.

"Yes? You in the front row who seems to forget this isn't a class. What is it?"

"Is this because we haven't gotten shore leave?" He asked in his best student voice.

"Maybe. It's important to keep morale up." Jim smirked. "And god knows the admirals won't even look at an application for shore leave for another six months."

"Aw man." Sulu groaned. "Seriously?"

"Sulu." Jim rolled his eyes, leaning forward. "Can you honestly tell me that surprises you? With all the friction between me and them I'd be lucky if they gave us something other than a milk run in the next three months. I doubt we'll get another first contact in four."

"What friction?" Uhura swiveled in her seat to watch him, suddenly interested.

"Uh…" Jim gulped, sitting back. "That's enough talk, back to work everyone."

"Captain…" She narrowed her eyes. "What friction?"

Jim glanced around and caught suspicious looks from everyone. Woops. Spock had an eyebrow raised in amusement. It was telling him something along the lines of 'I'll enjoy watching you dig yourself deeper, please commence'. He probably deserved that. Sighing, he settled back, prepared to get yelled at.

"They…um…well they don't really trust me since I'm the youngest captain in the fleet and I didn't exactly get my promotion in the usual way. So…they've been assigning extra work for me and I called them on it. They thoroughly chewed me out for that, saying I'd do what they told me to. I…uh…took it to the extremes and have been burying them in paperwork." Jim offered a sheepish grin.

"They what?" Uhura hissed.

"Captain." Spock's voice was particularly loud, rumbling right next to him.

To Jim's credit, he didn't fly out of his chair this time. "Yes?"

"Why did you not inform me of this development?"

Jim felt a stab of anger and barely constrained it. "Oh, maybe because you already knew?"

Spock straightened at the words spit at him. "You are under an erroneous impression."

"Am I? Then why did you tell them to give me extra paperwork?" Jim stood, turning in the motion to glare at the man standing behind him.

Spock looked horrified, in his own, non-emotive way. "I did no such thing."

"The letters are on your server." Jim accused, fully expecting Spock to call him on hacking his computer.

To his surprise, the flash of anger that colored his eyes was not directed at him. He wasn't really sure how he knew that. Spock turned to his station, typing rapidly at the console a moment before a low growl escaped his lips. Jim's spine straightened at the sound, as he suspected everyone's did.

"Do not hack my files, Captain." Spock turned back around. "And be mindful of what you do read. Those were not my correspondences."

It took Jim a full second to realize the implications of that statement. "Wait. Who's files did _you_ hack?"

Spock tensed, ear tips turning green as the entire crew snapped their heads to him in shock. "You are mistaken, Captain. I did no such thing. The documents were sent to me by Admiral Pike, of his own volition."

"Okay. Then what the hell is going on?" Jim snapped, suddenly very confused.

"I was attempting to deal with the admirals. I was unaware they had actually followed the advice of this...Admiral."

Jim went very still. "An Admiral? Who?"

"It is best I do not say."

"Spock." Jim growled.

"Jim." Spock replied coolly, quirking an eyebrow to ask what he hoped to accomplish with his name.

Kirk very nearly flushed at the use of his first name on the bridge. A mix of anger and embarrassment, bubbled in him, as well as a strange sense of relief. Spock _hadn't_ been trying to sabotage him.

"Captain." Sulu interrupted. "You're behaving like a kid again."

Jim groaned, rubbing at his face. "I hate you Sulu."

There was no emotion to the words, so Sulu just laughed. "Sure you do."

"Okay. Seriously now?" Jim sat back down. "We have work to do. If anyone wants to chew me out they can do it after our shift. That includes you, Spock."

"Indeed." Spock sat back down. "I have no intent of 'chewing' on you Captain."

Jim laughed, catching the mocking humor. When was the last time Spock had actually joked with him? He decided that, damn it all, Bones was right. He really was going to have to invite Spock to lunch now, because…well, actually, he couldn't think of a good reason to approach the man. Oh, sure, they really should talk, but that always seemed to go horribly wrong.

James T. Kirk was no coward though, so he was going to go through with it. He also didn't make a habit of lying, and he had told McCoy he would ask him.

So when Lunch came around Jim leapt to his feet and caught Spock's wrist as he passed. "Hey uh…sorry?"

Jim quickly retrieved his hand at the incredulous look he was receiving. "I am unsure what you choose to apologize for."

"I guess 'everything' doesn't work?" Jim asked sheepishly. "How about for hacking your computer and thinking you were trying to sabotage me or something?"

Spock considered this a moment and inclined his head in agreement. "Your apology is accepted. Thank you."

Jim grimaced, having kind-of hoped Spock would brush it off and say it was nothing. "For the record, I only did it once, and it _was_ just after that second mission. Not that that makes it any better."

"Affirmative." Spock glanced at the door, silently wishing to leave.

"So…uh...what were you doing on the computer after I told you I hacked your files?"

"I was implementing a defense program so you could no longer do so." Spock glanced back at him, the same look of disapproval on his face as when he confronted Jim about the Kobayashi Maru.

Jim flinched. "Oh. Yeah. Sorry."

"You have already said as much." Spock replied cagily.

"Want to go to lunch with me?" Jim blurted out, feeling very uncomfortable with the building hostility.

Spock blinked twice at him, finally inclined his head in agreement. "That would be acceptable."

… .. .

That was completely unacceptable.

He was correct in assuming he would not be forced to spend his time alone with Jim, awkwardly attempting to converse with him. However, he was finding that Jim seemed to forget a common convention of social interaction most commonly referred to as personal space. Across from them, Sulu and Chekov had become engrossed in their own conversation. Uhura was suspiciously absent.

To Spock's side, Jim sat somehow dividing his attention between eating and trying to focus on the other pair's conversation without spilling his food everywhere.

This was not what was unacceptable. Despite their side of the table consisting only of them, Jim felt the need to sit uncomfortably close. He could feel the brush of Jim's shoulder against his every time he moved, which was fairly often considering he was sitting with his dominant side next to Spock. He'd subtly made to move away, but caught a flash of disappointment from the other man as the back of their hands brushed together. It proved…difficult to move further and Kirk subtly slid back up against him. It was most likely inappropriate in many ways, but it was a small concession, this once. Perhaps this was Kirk's method of 'getting his bad behavior out of the way'.

The increased desire for contact was logical if the Captain knew he would be restraining himself from touching most of the crew in the presence of the other Vulcans.

It made little sense why he would choose to, though. Most Vulcans understood that Terrans were tactile beings and would find nothing strange in the overt displays.

As usual, he found little logic in the man's behavior.

Spock stiffened as he felt Jim's knee bump against his. It was exceptionally difficult to think with the constant of pressure of the other man against some part of his body. Jim continued his conversation as if he were doing nothing, and for a second Spock believed Jim truly had no idea that he was intruding upon his space. That idea was quickly shattered when Jim leaned heavily on him, draping his arm across Spock's shoulders. Spock squared his shoulders, turning his head to look at Jim. The table had gone quiet.

"Well?" Jim demanded, pouting.

"I was not listening to your conversation." Spock informed him. "What was your inquiry?"

Jim groaned, dropping his head onto the table. Sulu and Chekov laughed, grinning at him in amusement. Slowly, the blond drew his hand back, trailing it along the Vulcan's shoulders as he returned it to his side. Spock very carefully did _not_ take a sharp inhalation of breath.

"Spock." Jim whined. "How could you ignore the whole conversation?"

"I was unaware I was expected to contribute."

"Still! You completely tuned me out!" Jim pouted up at him. "That's terrible."

"What we wanted to know…" Sulu interrupted, effectively silencing Jim. "Is if there are curse words in Vulcan."

Spock raised both his eyebrows, glancing over at Jim. "There are rather serious insults and words considered to be crass in nature and definition."

"So yes." Jim said pointedly.

"See Hikaru!" Chekov slapped his arm. "Zhere are the cursing in ewery language! It iz in peoplez naturez to be insulting the others."

Sulu sighed shaking his head. "I just figure a race that doesn't _use_ it's curses would…I don't know, forget about it."

Spock twitched, momentarily frowning. "It is not true that such words are unused in the common vernacular."

Jim scowled, immediately disliking the topic. "Hey Spock."

"Yes Jim?" Spock cast him an almost exasperated look, in time to see the scowl switch to an 'innocent' smile.

"Will you teach me how to curse in Vulcan?"

"No."

"Oh come on!" Jim threw his hands up in the air. "I need to know!"

"I fail to see any plausible situation were any good could come of you having knowledge of offensive language in Vulcan." Spock fixed him with a pointed look, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly.

"What if someone insults my crew?" Jim crossed his arms over his chest, turning in his seat to face Spock.

"If someone were to insult any member of the crew in my native language, I would inform you." Spock quirked an eyebrow, even as he scooted he knee away from the persistent touch now being applied to it.

"And what if someone insulted them when you weren't around?"

"You are operating under the assumption that I would allow you to interact with them without my presence."

Jim very nearly tripped over that, sputtering a second in surprised. "You don't have to baby sit me! And fine! Assuming you were there, what if they insult you?"

Spock's eyes widened. "I am not sure I understand your query."

"Would you tell me?" Jim's voice dropped, softer, wounded. "Would you? Or would you just keep it to yourself? Would you pretend it didn't happen? Would you call them out on your own?"

Spock tensed. "I am capable of handling myself, Captain. In any event, that occurrence is unlikely."

"Yeah right." Jim snarled angrily, standing and clearing his empty tray. "If you'll excuse me, lunch is almost done. I should get back to the bridge."

They watched in silence a moment as Kirk stormed out of the canteen. Sulu whistled lowly, earning the confused glances of the two men still seated with him.

"Oh man." Sulu shook his head and stood. "He has no idea."

"No idea of vhat?"

"I'll tell you when you're older." Sulu laughed, promptly leaving before he could face further questioning.

"Urg." Chekov groaned, standing to clean his own tray with a pout. "I am perfectly old enoughs. Vhat zhey are not sharingz iz something veird. Zhey are wery confusing, da?"

"Indeed." Spock stared after the door as he cleaned his tray, feeling he missed much more than even Chekov.

… … .. . .. … …

**Prepare the monologue! All hands to their positions! Fail! …Er…Fire!**

**So yeah.**

**_Yo-mayo_-It's something of a Russian exclamation like holy cow.**

**I'm not even going to try to spell it properly. I don't even like trying to read the stupid symbols anyway. That: Ё :might not even show up on your monitor and if you're trying to read this in Russian using a translator then you're crazy. Bah. I'm writing it how it is (mostly) pronounced.**

**My Russian is terrible…**


	20. Chapter 20

**Guess what. I don't own Star Trek.**

… … .. . .. … …

Jim stretched himself out across the Captain's chair, groaning slightly in pleasure as the muscles in his back pulled. Rand rolled her eyes, snatching the PADD from his hand and stalking off. Jim grinned and stood, looking over his crew with a devious smirk.

"One more day guys, and then we reach the Vulcan Lunar Colony. Hey Spock, why do they call it that?" Jim frowned. "I mean, it's on a planet, right?"

"Dias III is a Class M planet, Captain. However, the science colony extends to five of the seven moons surrounding the planet."

"Oh. Huh." Jim shrugged, stalking over to the science station. "Anything interesting happening?"

"I do not presume to know what interests you at this current juncture, as your preferences for amusement seem to differ greatly with no determinable pattern." Spock didn't look up at him, or he might have had the illogical desire to roll his eyes.

Jim leaned in, pressing his chest against the back of the other man's chair and resting his arm on Spock's shoulder. "I'm interested in the science station right now. I don't think we ever got to finish our lesson."

"I'm heading down to Sickbay." Sulu announced, handing his station over to his relief.

Jim whipped his head to look around at him in surprise. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Sulu insisted, waving him off. "I just need to get my vaccines and I figured now would be a good time to do it."

Jim laughed. "And you're going willingly? Alright then. Get back up here soon though. I need my best pilot here to entertain me."

"I think you've got enough entertainment for now." Sulu nodded his head to Spock and promptly left the bridge.

Jim glanced over at Spock, who was giving him a mildly annoyed look. It took him a second to realize Spock was displeased with the fact he was practically draped over him on the bridge. He flushed a bit and drew back to lean over the science station.

… .. .

"Office. Now." Sulu caught McCoy's arm as soon as he entered Sickbay and started dragging him off.

"What? What are you doing?" McCoy snarled, reaching for a hypo in his bag.

"I need my vaccines. And we need to talk."

McCoy rolled his eyes, opening he door to his office. "Welcome. I'm thinking of renaming this the James T. Kirk wing of Sickbay. I'll have it converted to his private room."

Sulu chuckled and plopped down in a chair. "So you can only come in here if you're Kirk or if you need to talk about him?"

"What did he do now?" McCoy sighed, running a tricorder over the pilot out of habit.

"How long has this thing between him and Spock been going on?" Sulu cut straight to the chase.

Bones swore as he picked his tricorder back up. He was going to end up breaking something one of these days. Sulu was staring at him in surprise.

"You did know, right?"

"Good God man. What exactly do you mean by 'this thing between' them?" McCoy hissed, hoping Sulu wasn't asking about what he knew he was.

"It's Kirk. He's completely head-ov-"

"Shut up." McCoy hissed, slapping a hand over the other man's mouth. "Shit. Is it that obvious now? I was hoping I was just seeing things."

Sulu chuckled a bit, peeling the man's hand off his mouth. "I didn't think too much of it at lunch either. Just Kirk being Kirk and not realizing what he was doing. But what I just saw on the bridge was full out flirting. I mean, yeah, he flirts, but he draped himself across the guy and told him he was interested in him."

"What?" Bones blinked, having difficulty accepting that.

"Okay, so what he technically said was that he was interested in the science station, but seriously?"

"Oh God." McCoy rubbed at his face, groaning. "He has no idea. He really doesn't. I was hoping he would snap out of it before anyone else realized. I mean, I'm expected to catch on…well third actually, but first this time. I'm his best friend, it's my job. But then Scotty starts making comments, and now you. This is horrible."

"I don't think it's that bad." Sulu grimaced, fairly confused. "I mean, okay, they have no idea what's going on, but…I have no idea where I'm going with this…"

"Yeah." McCoy agreed, stabbing him viciously with a hypo. "Jim does that. He manages to completely derail arguments he isn't even involved in. Just don't say anything. Neither of them need that stress right now. And no one else needs to know."

"Hell no I'm not saying anything." Sulu looked affronted. "How stupid do you think I am? I do not need that drama looming over my shoulder."

"Hn." McCoy stabbed another hypo into him. "There. That's all the shots you need. Try to ignore Jim. They'll be angry at each other again within the week."

"Yeah." Sulu agreed, standing up and rolling his head side to side. "Constantly blowing hot and cold."

… .. .

"Spock!" Jim caught him by the shoulder, grinning. "Want to go play chess?"

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him. "While I would not be adverse to the activity, we should consume dinner first."

"It's cool, we can eat in my room." Jim insisted.

He effectively missed the _look_ Uhura gave him. Sulu was quick to intercede, dragging her and Chekov off in the name of 'Science!', though she continued to cast suspicious looks back over her shoulder. When they reached the turbo lift, Sulu was sure to stand in her way, blocking her view of the pair. The last thing they needed was Uhura figuring it out.

Spock hesitated, a small frown flicking over his features. "Very well."

"Great!" Jim beamed, grabbing the other man's wrist and dragging him off.

Spock would have protested, but the sudden familiarity of the action was almost unbearably amusing. He allowed himself to be dragged off to a turbo lift, and nearly forgot to retrieve his hand when the doors shut. Jim glanced down when he did, before looking up at him in embarrassment.

"Uh…So we should probably talk."

"Are we not conversing now?"

"You know what I mean." Jim chided. "This isn't actually the time for jokes. I…"

Jim trailed off, remaining silent until the doors opened them to the proper deck. Jim stalked silently down the hall to their rooms, Spock trailing after him in mild bewilderment. What was the cause of Jim's sudden silence? When he entered the room after Jim, he was only mildly surprised to hear him engage the Captain's lock. Jim collapsed in one of the chairs by his chess table, waving his hand to offer the other to Spock. He remained standing.

"Why did you leave? After I told you what I did?" Jim finally asked, sounding very much like he was trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

Spock tensed, remembering the heated anger that he had only recently gotten control of. "I was…behaving emotionally."

"Oh." Jim said flatly, as though he hadn't been expecting the completely obvious answer. "So now what?"

"I suspect the logical thing to do would be to endeavor to start over." Spock admitted, sitting down. "We should attempt to go about this…conventionally."

"That's not going to happen." Jim snorted. "I can't do conventional."

"Then I propose we go about this illogically, as you are prone to do." Spock smirked.

"Okay." Jim agreed, a tinge of relief flooding through him. "So…how are you and Uhura doing?"

"I will not pretend to know what my physical well being has to do with Nyota's."

Jim flushed. "Spock, come on. I _saw_ you with her. It's cool. I totally approve."

"Ah." Spock inclined his head, realizing what Jim was referring to. "You were mistaken in your observations. I consider her to be family, much in the manner of a sister."

"Bullshit." Jim snorted. "I'm way too familiar with that whole 'we think of each other like siblings' crap. It's the oldest excuse in the book for denying a romantic relationship."

"Jim." Spock allowed his exasperation and amusement to show ever so slightly. "We are not engaged in a romantic relationship. I am uncertain for the cause of your jealousy."

"I'm not jealous." Jim sputtered, folding his arms over his chest and sinking into his chair. "I'm just…We really need to work on communication on this ship."

"So I am told." Spock rose again, heading to the replicator and keying in the code for his meal. "What do you desire to eat, Jim?"

"Chicken sandwich, please." He flushed, playing with one of the chess pieces on the board.

Spock returned with their desired meals and sat down again across from Jim, holding his plate in his lap. Jim copied the motion, instead of how he usualy took his meals on his bed or the floor. The blond glanced over and recognized the dish Spock was eating as one of the Vulcan meals he had programmed in. Somehow, that made him feel just a little giddy.

"Do you like it?" Jim gestured to the meal with his own fork, though he had no idea why sandwiches always included cutlery.

"It is exceptional." Spock inclined his head in agreement, ignorant to the little flip Jim's stomach did at the praise. "It must have taken quite some effort considering you are not familiar with the dishes of my home world."

"I did my research." Jim admitted, glancing down, away from the other man. "I'm glad you like it."

A ghost of a smile passed over the dark haired man's features. "Indeed."

Jim sighed, feeling surprisingly comfortable as they lapsed into silence. He found himself watching Spock eat though, something he hadn't done since they'd separated their hands. His eyes trailed to Spock's fingers, thinking about _how_ they'd separated.

"Have you ever melded with Uhura?"

Spock dropped his fork, eyes going wide, mouth hanging open ever so slightly. Jim straightened, realizing instantly he asked something he wasn't supposed to. It took a moment, but Spock restarted his brain and quickly set aside his meal, coughing uncomfortable.

"That is not really…pertinent." He said awkwardly, not quite meeting Jim's eyes.

"Sorry. Did I ask something wrong?"

"I…" Spock frowned, considering what he should answer. "No. You did nothing wrong. It is simply that…mind melds are considered extremely…intimate in most situations. Not all, but many."

"Oh." Jim blinked. "I keep walking into this stuff, don't I?…heh…I guess our meld was far from the intimate kind."

Rather than show amusement at Jim's awkward statement, Spock straightened, looking stricken. Immediately, Jim tensed, sitting up straight and furrowing his brow in worry. He opened his mouth to ask what he said when Spock started to speak.

"Jim…What I did to you was inexcusable. Such an act is deserving of severe punishment…" He trailed off, finally meeting Jim's eyes.

The blond was starring at him in horror. "Spock! You've got to be kidding! I told you I'm not upset about it. You were fighting with me. It was a valid tactic."

"It was not!" Spock insisted, raising his voice ever so slightly. "There is no way to excuse such a reprehensible action."

"Fine." Jim glowered. "Then we're even."

"What?" Spock furrowed his brow in confusion, the little muscles between his eyebrows scrunching ever so slightly. "We are not."

"Spock. What _I_ did was inexcusable too." Jim insisted.

"You have done nothing wrong. You are psynull and any-"

"Not that." Jim snarled in frustration, running his fingers through his hair. "The kiss."

Spock blinked in surprise. "I do not understand."

"When I kissed you. _That_ was the worst transgression I could have made." Jim looked away guiltily, missing the flash of utter confusion in the brown eyes across from him.

"You did not do wrong." Spock insisted. "You acted under duress. Further more, the action holds only intimacy in your society. Vulcans do not kiss as Terrans do."

"And Terrans can't do mind melds." Jim looked back at him, blue eyes sparking with intensity. "And yet by my book I'm the one who did something terrible."

"I do not-"

"Understand." Jim cut in. "Yeah. I got that. Think about it though."

Spock did as he was told. Jim was correct in saying their transgressions were separated by the barrier of culture. Even then, he did not believe kissing another was generally considered a crime on Earth. True, continuing with any intimacy when one participant was not willing was, but that was true everywhere. It was, in fact the basis for the crime of his mind meld. Why, though, would Jim see one kiss as such a terrible contravention, especially when he would never have made such a choice were he thinking properly?

Oh.

"Oh." Spock whispered, suddenly feeling a stab of lonely understanding. "Jim, no. You can not-"

"I _do _blame myself." Jim interrupted again. "Just like you blame yourself."

"I…" Spock frowned, yearning for some way he could simply stop the other man's pain. "If I were to set aside my transgression, and forgive myself, would you do the same?"

Jim gulped, considering it. More than anything he wanted them to get along, and it seemed the only thing between them now was that they couldn't forgive themselves. Slowly, he nodded, and watched as a moment of dark relief flickered through those deep brown eyes. With an embarrassed little gesture, Jim reminded the other man of why they were actually in his room, and they began setting up the chess board, dinners forgotten as they could no longer stomach them.

It was a few minutes into the game when either of them decided to speak again.

"I admit, I am perplexed by something." Spock glanced up, earning a hum telling him to continue. "You are exceedingly proficient in chess, and yet you do not seem to enjoy playing it. Why, then do you choose to do so?"

Jim looked up in surprise and laughed. "And here I thought I was doing a good job of hiding it. I'm not really a fan of the game, but I like the social interaction."

"There are other forms of social interaction you enjoy, are there not?" Spock returned to his study of the board.

Jim had to bite his tongue from saying the immediate response that came to mind. "Well, yeah, but I don't know much about what you like."

"And you presumed I favor chess due to my proficiency at it?" Spock glanced up at him, amusement twinkling in his eyes.

Jim's jaw dropped. "You don't like chess?"

"My mother was never one to play chess." Spock offered offhandedly. "My father was the one who taught me, and I admit I did not find pleasure in playing with him. As he was often absent due to his ambassadorial duties, I found other ways of entertaining myself."

While the last statement was no doubt meant to tie in with his first comment, Jim found himself clamping a hand over his mouth in an attempt not to say something entirely inappropriate. Spock glanced up and, as if reading his mind, gave him and admonishing look. It was a hundred times easier to read the other man in private, and Jim suspected he was being allowed to see these emotions more clearly. Somehow, he had no protest.

"So what do you like to do?" Jim couldn't quite keep all of the perversion from his voice.

Spock very nearly rolled his eyes. "I enjoy reading theatrical pieces and poetry, as well as playing a traditional Vulcan harp, among other things."

One word in particular caught Jim's interest in statement. "A harp? Doesn't the vibrating strings feel weird with your fingers being more sensitive? I mean, I always found playing the guitar weird and I don't even…is that like some kind of Vulcan kink?"

Spock sighed, the chess board effectively dismissed. "It is not. And while I tended to notice a sense of discomfort when initially learning to play, it no longer bothers me."

"Oh." Jim frowned, "So is there anything you do for fun that isn't a single person thing?"

"I do not typically spend time doing recreational activities." Spock admitted.

"So you're just making an exception for me?" Jim grinned.

"I make many exceptions for you." He said a little ruefully, a small smile twitching at the corners of his lips.

"So I'm making you feel unproductive? We could do something a little more work oriented if you want."

"I would not wish to detract from your recreational time. While I tend to find myself disquieted by periods of unproductiveness, you need relaxation."

"You'd be surprised what I find relaxing." Jim laughed. "Lets see, I like long walks in the moonlight, late nights studying, and lengthy hours working out."

"Indeed?" Spock quirked an eyebrow, not entirely sure which part of that was humor, and which was meant seriously.

"Sure." Jim grinned. "Tell me what you like and I'd be more than willing to give it a try. I'm not that hard to entertain."

"I suspect your attentions do not remain focused for long."

"We are starting to get to know each other!" Jim said with mock seriousness.

Spock very nearly smiled. "So it would seem."

"So?" Jim attempted to quirk his eyebrow, and failed miserably.

Spock felt oddly amused by that. "So?"

"So, I'm easy. What do you want to do?" Jim shrugged, standing to stretch. "We're obviously not getting back to our game."

It was Spock's turn to prevent himself from making an indecorous comment. "I truly have no preference."

"So you just like spending time with me, huh?" Jim teased, sauntering over to lean on the back of the man's chair. "Well, that does make things easy."

Spock stood himself, turning to regard the blond captain with a quirked brow. Jim seemed oblivious of the change, silently rubbing his chin in thought and staring at his door. Finally, he turned his devilish blue eyes to the Vulcan in the room, mischievous intent painting them. A slow, toothy grin broke across his face and he stood straight.

"Want to run away?"

Spock furrowed his brow immediately. "I do not understand your query."

"We can run away." Jim laughed, gesturing for the door. "Go exploring, sneak through the Jefferies tubes, you know…"

For the life of him, Spock couldn't find a reason to protest, so he inclined his head in agreement. Jim whooped in enjoyment and made a grab for the other man's arm. Spock very nearly reached back, but restrained himself. Jim's hand found his forearm and he immediately found himself being snuck through the halls and dragged to a completely random Jefferies tube entrance.

It was surprisingly thrilling, hiding in the last possible second to avoid being seen. At least one person did notice them, but winked supportively and pretended to miss them. It was no surprise that this person was Scotty, though Spock had no idea what he was doing outside of his beloved engineering. It seemed even he was beginning to notice the man had a tendency to work too much. Coming from Spock, that was saying something.

Jim snorted in amusement as they narrowly missed Rand by ducking into a service shaft. Spock sighed internally, glancing sideways at the ladder, pressed into his side. The service shaft was _not_ designed for two people to stand side-by-side in it. Jim's shoulder was once again pressed into his chest. There was…fortunately…enough cloth between them that he was not being bombarded with emotions.

With a grunt, Jim wormed his way to the ladder and started up, calling quietly over his shoulder for Spock to follow him. He did.

It was some time late into the night when they found themselves sequestered in a small training room in the gym. Spock was detailing a map on a PADD, determining how much of the ship they had covered. It was approximately half. Jim was laying on the ground, staring up at the ceiling and laughing.

"That was great." He spoke for the first time in hours.

Spock glanced up at him in surprise. "Indeed?"

"Yeah." Jim grinned, rolling on his side. "It's been forever since I've gotten to just wander with almost no one knowing where I was."

"I see. My presence was not displeasing, was it?" Spock didn't frown, but he did return his gaze to the PADD in his lap.

Jim pouted. "No. Why? Didn't you enjoy yourself?"

"I found the exercise particularly fulfilling." Spock admitted, setting the PADD aside.

"Speaking of exercise…" Jim rolled to his feet, placing his hands on his hips. "Want to go a few rounds?"

"Captain?" Spock raised an eyebrow, standing in time with the action.

"Come on." Jim grinned, rolling out his shoulders. "It's good to stay in shape. I haven't had a good fight since…well, since the Narada incident."

"Fighting with you would not be wise." He looked the other man over. "I am three times stronger than you and am not currently suffering from the effects of malnutrition."

Jim scowled. "Then go easy on me."

"Jim-"

"Come on. I promise we'll stop if you think I can't handle it." Jim gave his best puppy-dog eyes.

Spock promptly closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Very well. Remember though that I am capable of making you quit if you refuse to listen to my decision."

Jim nodded enthusiastically, already attempting to remove his shirt. "Mm'k. Just no nerve pinches."

Spock stilled a moment, fighting down the horror at the thought that Jim was indeed intending to fight him shirtless. He paused a moment before deciding that he did not wished to be hindered by both of his shirts, but would not go without some cover. He promptly removed his undershirt and pulled his science blues back on. Jim watched the movement, momentarily considering pulling his command gold back on to provide a bit of comfort to the other man before deciding it most likely had something to do with the ambient temperature.

"Ready?" Jim purred, settling into a simple stance.

Spock raised an eyebrow at him, looking all too easily as though he was not about to get in a fight. "I am."

The words had barely left his mouth before Jim was attacking. His momentary surprise didn't stop him from sidestepping the hit. Undeterred, Jim used the movement to sweep Spock's legs. Spock stepped down, catching Jim's leg mid motion and knocking him off balance. Jim tipped onto his hands, swinging himself away and standing back up. Spock followed his motion though and swung at him before he had a chance to fully right himself. Jim ducked, ramming his shoulder into Spock's chest.

Spock wrapped an arm around Jim's waist and brought his elbow down into the other man's back. Jim winced, slamming a punch into…well, Spock's heart. Spock darted back, wheezing as his heart thumped painfully in his side. Jim frowned when he saw the surprised look on the other man's face, only to realize what he did.

"Shit. Are you okay?" Jim dropped his hands, taking an aborted step forward.

Spock nodded. "I am well. There was no damage."

"Good." Jim sighed with relief, laughing nervously. "Do that wrong and you can do real harm."

"Indeed." Spock agreed, settling back into a fighting stance.

Jim puffed out an embarrassed breath. "Okay."

Spock darted forward, bringing his leg up in a sharp kick. Jim stepped in, catching the blow at Spock's inner thigh against his hip. In the same motion, he brought an elbow in for the other man's temple. Spock stepped forward, using his weight to throw the blond man off balance. Jim wrapped an arm around his neck, dragging him down and burying his fist in his stomach.

Spock rolled off of him, attempting to regain his feet. Jim had other plans.

The problem with grappling on the floor was that it was an extra contender. Hard surfaces often caused more damage than the other fighter, in Jim's experience. He was only mildly surprised to find Spock was fairly decent at ground fights, something he had not expected from the other man. When the lanky Vulcan pinned him, Jim started laughing, effectively giving up.

Spock rolled off of him and lay down next to him on the floor.

"Okay, _that_ was great. Where'd you learn to grapple?" Jim turned his head to look over at him.

Spock returned the look, finally mussing his hair by pressing it to the floor. "I often found it necessary to learn ulterior methods of defending myself."

Jim's eyes darkened immediately, scowling. "Sorry."

"Stop apologizing to me." Spock allowed a soft sigh, furrowing his brow. "I do not desire your pity."

"It isn't pity!" Jim insisted, sitting up.

Spock sat up as well, a frown ticking across his features. "As you have no reason to apologize, I can only assume you are doing so out of pity."

"It isn't." Jim found himself glowering yet again. "I just know where you're coming from."

Spock narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I got a lot of crap as a kid for being the kid of George Kirk." Jim shrugged. "Apparently I was supposed to be him."

Spock frowned, instinctually placing his hand on Jim's shoulder. He snapped his head up from where he had allowed his eyes fall to the floor. Spock could feel the pain and annoyance under his palm, desperately subdued. It hadn't occurred to him that Jim was trying to hold in his emotions while they fought, but he realized it then. It took all of Jim's self control not to lean into that warmth. It was all kinds of a bad idea and he wasn't even sure where it had come from.

"We should…probably get back to our rooms." Jim whispered.

Spock dropped his hand, nodding slowly. "That would be best."

Spock made to grab Jim's shirt from where it lay on the floor, but was hindered by Jim's arms around his waist. His spine stiffened automatically as Jim buried his face between his shoulder blades. He could feel the embarrassment, relief, and regret seeping through even his shirt. Jim pulled back almost immediately, his own shirts in hand.

"Sorry." He whispered.

"Jim…?" Spock stared in confusion.

Why had Jim just…?

"I'm sorry." He repeated, and sprinted from the room.

Spock stared after him in wonder, utterly at a loss for his untoward behavior.

Jim didn't slow down or take a proper breath until he had returned to his room. There, he gulped down deep lungfuls, his cheeks scarlet. He had no idea what he was doing. All at once he just felt the driving need to touch him, as if to ensure he was really there. It had been decidedly foolish. And probably ruined any progress they had made over the night. It had just felt good…too good to be true. What the hell was wrong with him that he couldn't get anything right?

Frustrated, he lashed out at the chessboard, heaving it across the room at the wall. It did little except scatter the pieces, only slightly scuffing one of the tiers. That only angered him more and he yanked a shelf from his trinket case. Easily broken items shattered as they struck the floor and a sick sense of accomplishment filled Jim's chest. At least he was good at breaking things. Swiping his hand across another shelf, he sent false mementoes flying across the room. Some shattered as they hit the walls, others bouncing harmlessly off of the decorations in his room.

With a growing sense of satisfaction, he slammed his booted foot down on a shard of glass, listening to the crunch it made. He picked up the discarded shelf he had effectively ruined and swung it hard at the souvenirs, watching them fly everywhere.

It was what he was good at. Always what he'd been good at. At least when he destroyed things, he was free to rip at the chains of ghosts that had always been wrapped around him.

Wordlessly, he slipped into the bathroom, broken shelf still in hand. Was Spock in his room? Would he be able to hear Jim through the bathroom wall? And would he wonder what Jim was doing in there? Would he hear him and try to talk to him? Would he just sit silently in his room, ignoring it?

Jim turned to the mirror, seeing his haggard face and bursting into hysterical laughter. He looked like he'd officially cracked, tipping over the edge. That was unsurprising. He'd managed to finally break himself. All his frustration, his anger, his self-loathing had cumulated in his destructive rush of anger. There was no self-pity here, simply a hysterical reflection of the mistakes he was making.

With a desperate cackle, he swung the board into the mirror, shattering it. A hundred little reflections of him stared up at him, laughing, mocking. A hundred little reflections watching him, waiting for the next mistake. A hundred little reflections waiting for the next swing. A hundred reflections of him, feeling what he felt, seeing a hundred more. A hundred reflections judging as they fell from grace, laying on the floor in degradation, dragging him down to their level.

He collapsed to the ground in a fit of gasping laughter. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back and succumbing to his hysteria, oblivious to the pieces of glass slicing through his gold tunic, nicking his skin. He was no longer aware of the haunting blue eyes that could see straight through him, showing him things inside himself he didn't want to show himself. He was no longer subjected to the maelstrom of his thoughts. Through his turn of sordid laughter, his exhaustion clamed him, dragging him deep into oblivion and his haunting sleep.

… … .. . .. … …

**Oops. I broke him. Don't worry. **

**This is just the natural progression of Jim's mental issues…well, for my purposes anyway. It's a bit exaggerated as far as actual psychology goes…Though not necessarily inaccurate.**

…**Is it bad that all I could think when writing Sulu's "I'm headed down to Sickbay." line is that he was saying he was sick of watching them?**


	21. Chapter 21

**Don't what? Don't own.**

**I seriously love all of the people reading this. Especially those that review. Your reactions make it worth it.**

… … .. . .. … …

Spock spent the night trying to meditate. No matter how deep he looked, he could not find a single reason for Jim's running away. It was frustrating. He was beginning to suspect he would have many sleepless nights meditating on his impetuous captain. It was shortly before the start of his shift when he finally admitted defeat and headed for the bathroom to prepare for the day.

He wasn't prepared for what he saw.

Jim lay curled on his side, head resting on his hand, eyes closed peacefully in sleep. His golden tunic was stained orange, a tattered mess around his nearly still chest. The shards around him reflected gold and red and the cool blue grey of the room in dazzling splendor around his prone form, radiating out from where he lay like stained glass rays of sun and sky. Streams of brilliant red blood weaved through the closest shards, painting the ground. Jim's back was a canvas of bloody valleys and glass peaks.

Spock's heart stopped.

Blindly, he stepped into the bathroom, bare feat a tender victim of the shattered mirror, oblivious to the pain. Kneeling, he placed his hand at Jim's pulse, the strong throat still beneath his fingers. A faint beat pulsed shallowly there, dim, waning as though there were simply no reason to keep trying so hard.

… .. .

"What the hell is going on?" McCoy hollered, accepting the scrubs he was handed by a nurse, eyes darting around furiously for Chapel.

"Leonard!" She called over her the shoulder of a worry stuck doctor.

He raced over, eyes widening at the red blood streaked across her clothes. "What happened? I was told someone was bleeding out."

"It's Kirk." She whispered fervently, pushing him into the medical room.

Jim lay on his stomach on the bed, an IV in his arm providing the drugs to keep him under. Two doctors were carefully removing the shards of glass from his back. He was horrified to find the man in a state comparable to shredded beef. Seated in a corner of the room, having violently dismissed the nurse attempting to tend to him, was a rather stricken Vulcan, gazing palely at the other man, dripping green blood on the otherwise clean floor.

Bones would worry about him later.

"Is that a chunk of mirror?" McCoy asked, aghast. "Okay, Chapel. Get me saline. We need to wash these out. It's safest to do that before we use anything more advanced. I need rubbing alcohol too. Jim's allergic to tetanus shots. And I want a slow stitching dermal regenerator. I'll need some hypos for the inflammation and a broad spectrum antibiotic."

At his orders, everyone jumped into motion.

He spared a sideways glance for Spock, who looked catatonic. Later. He'd grill him later, once Jim was no longer in danger. Once he was sure his friend wouldn't die in his sickbay. A thought occurred to him as he looked back to Jim.

"Someone get Scotty in my sickbay!"

It hadn't taken long for the asked for engineer to arrive. Chapel directed him to sit down in a corner. Seeing the blood on her clothes, he agreed. Something was not right. Another nurse stopped by briefly to give him his vaccinations and disappeared again. Close to ten minutes later, McCoy was marching angrily through Sickbay when he spotted him.

"You!" He snarled, mostly from frustration. "You've had your shots? Of course you have. You're Captain today."

"Wha's goin' on laddy?" Scotty frowned standing to follow the doctor.

"Jim's gone and gotten hurt. That blasted Vulcan won't get medical attention until he's sure Jim's alright. Get up on the bridge and _don't_ tell anyone."

"God." Scotty whispered in horror. "I just saw the lads last night. They were fine. What _happened_?"

McCoy faltered a moment, this new information sparking off something in his mind. "I'll fill you in later, please. Get. On. The. Bridge. If you're pressed, just say I ordered a recuperation day for them."

"Aye. I understand. Go help our Cap'n." Scotty very nearly clapped him on the shoulder, but decided against it when he considered the red coating his clothes.

Bones gave him a drawn smile, returning to his search for the materials he still needed.

… .. .

Scotty was already on the bridge, seated in the Captain's chair when the rest of the main crew filtered in. The air was heavy, a implacable silence hovering over his presence. Everyone waited patiently in their seats, dreading the knowledge they would receive if they simply asked about their two commander's whereabouts. Scotty stood slowly, glancing around.

"Our favorite comm'ndrs have been ordered ta recuperate for a day by our CMO. Ye'll have ta deal with me for the day I'm afraid. I am sorry about that." He offered easily, as though he was asked to take over everyday.

"Vhy are they being ordered to rest?"

"McCoy doesn't want Kirk to be putting more stress on himself while he's still sick, I think."

"Then why would he order Commander Spock to take the day off too?" Sulu frowned at him.

"Barmy if _I_ know. I suspect he thinks our commander is putting too much stress on himself lately." Scotty shrugged, sitting back down.

Uhura scowled. "That a bad idea. He should have had them take separate days off."

"I'm not him!" Scotty said defensively. "I don't know what is goin' on."

"You just said they were ordered to take the day off." Sulu reminded.

"Aye…I did." Scotty shuffled a bit, frowning. "Look, my job is engineering. I have no desire to be a cap'n. So how should I know? Maybe he wants to lock them in a room and make them get over their issues?"

"No. I don't think that's it at all." Uhura fixed him with a serious look. "What is it you aren't telling us?"

"Nothing!"

"Vhere is the Keptin und Kommander? They are in Sickbay, da? Vhy?" Even Chekov had gotten in on the suspicious looks.

"Uh." Scotty's eyes were wide. "Ye have work to do."

"That doesn't work for Kirk it won't work for you." Uhura reminded coolly, crossing her legs with a look of smug satisfaction.

"I just know I was told to tell ye they had been ordered to have a day of relaxation." Scotty insisted.

It was mostly accurate anyway.

"We should call down to Sickbay." Sulu said decisively.

"No!" Scotty leapt to his feet, looking worried. "Ye can't."

"Spill." Uhura ordered.

"I…ye are a tough lot. No wonder the Cap'n can'naught keep anything from ye." Scotty sighed, plopping back down and crossing his arms. "I know there was an incident. Ah don't know what 'appened. Last I've heard, our Cap'n isn't well and our Comm'nder is keeping an eye on him."

"Vhat are you meaning isn't vell?"

Scotty closed his eyes, resigning himself to the CMO's wrath. "There was a lot of blood."

"Oh god." Uhura gasped, hands flying to her mouth.

Chekov managed to look even paler then usual, blood draining from his face. Sulu was very still, breathing shallowly, eyes wide.

"_Now_ ye see why ah wasn't to tell ye?" Scotty growled. "Ye don't have to worry. McCoy can handle it."

"How?" Sulu asked slowly.

"I don't know."

"Okay." Sulu said softly, and then with more conviction. "Okay. You're right. We have work. It doesn't matter."

"Good lad." Scotty hesitated, then settled himself in. "Report."

"Traveling at Warp 5. There are no obstructions…"

… .. .

Bones sat down next to the chiseled sculpture of a man who, until a few minutes ago, had been bleeding all over the place. He didn't flinch at the other's presence, or even bat an eyelid in acknowledgment of his existence. The solemn doctor pressed a warm cup of tea into his hands, startling an instinctual curl out of his fingers. He nodded decisively, pleased at least with that result.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" No reaction. "Chapel says you rushed in here, bleeding all over the place with Jim unconscious in your arms."

Spock twitched, eyes falling to the tea in his hands, but seeing only the memory of the man he had carried in them.

McCoy sighed. "How did he get like that Spock? Do you know when he smashed the mirror?"

Spock jolted, blank brown eyes gazing at him, as if they were trying to understand. "I…I do not."

"It's okay." McCoy sighed, scrubbing at his face. "Shit. This is typical Jim. Just never this _fast_."

"I…found him." Spock stated, as though it were not the most obvious thing in space. "He was laying in the shards, sleeping. I do not…understand."

"This is all Jim." McCoy told him gently, sighing. "He has no one else to blame. I've just never seen it this fast…"

"Explain." Spock looked pleadingly at him, too distraught to hide his emotions.

The volatile doctor sucked in a sharp breath and nodded. Slowly, with care to the other man's injuries, he lead him to his office, locking the door behind him. He poured himself a glass of brandy and took a long sip, earning a careful, absentminded eyebrow at his actions.

"This here, what Jim did, officially places you within the secrets circle. I'm not sharing this with some stranger. If I tell you, you have to promise you'll keep trying."

"Trying?"

"To be his friend."

"Of course." Spock whispered, though McCoy couldn't tell if that was an agreement or if he was saying he should have known that was what he was saying.

McCoy decided to plow on. "When we were becoming friends…Jim did this too. He…Okay. I have to start at the beginning. It started a couple of months after the…uh…alcohol poisoning incident. We were roommates, but we weren't friends. Jim…came on to me. It took me a bit to recognize the signs, but eventually Jim told me what he told you…I got the full story out of him."

Spock's eyes widened a bit, but McCoy shook his head, glowering.

"You still have to go to him for that. The point is, we started trying to get past that incident and form a proper friendship. One night, several months later, Jim cooked me a homemade meal, thanking me for trying so hard to put up with him I think. I guess he freaked out though…assumed I _thought_ he was trying the same stunt as before. The next day, he blew up a science experiment."

Spock's spine snapped straight at that. "I was informed the circumstances leading to that incident were unforeseeable."

"Maybe for everyone else involved." McCoy sighed, not bothering to ask how he heard about it. "But this is Jim. He thinks at least seven steps ahead of everyone else. Synthehol doesn't explode like that when it's overheated. Jim added something to it intentionally. He told me himself."

"Why would he do such a dangerous thing?" Spock chilled.

"It his damn destructive tendencies. If he hadn't had that reaction, he'd have been standing right next to it when it went up. He _knew_ what that Tellarite was working on and he _knew_ the guys girlfriend would be there and would flirt with him and he knew everyone would follow. He had it all planned out. He'd planned to just barely get away."

"He knew I would find him before he bled out?" A faint frown twitched at his lips.

"Probably." Bones admitted. "He destroys things. I'm pretty sure it wasn't the first time…with me, either. There's a story he told me once…he might not have even realized it was related himself, but I think it was."

"Why would he become destructive?"

"I'm not really sure. Anger, I suppose. Anger at himself, at what he assumes is yet another failure on his part when he finally started making progress. Anger at 'breaking' a friendship."

"He did nothing wrong." Spock held in his sigh, but allowed a touch of resignation and exhaustion to color his voice.

He really was becoming tired of dealing with such wild and unruly emotions. It seemed they were even harder to understand when they felt so far away.

"So will you tell me what exactly happened? Last I heard from Jim, he was inviting you to lunch and that had apparently not ended in disaster." McCoy crossed his arms over his chest, fixing him with the best look he could: a deliberate and measured stare somewhere between doctor, best friend, and father.

Spock felt the stiffness rising in his shoulders. "We had a discussion over dinner in Jim's room and played chess for a period of time. When we discovered out mutual dislike of the game, we sought another way to relax. At Jim's behest, we…explored the ship for sometime, eventually stopping for the night in the gym. I reluctantly agreed to a sparring match."

"I'm going to kill him. He's on restricted exercise." McCoy added testily, rolling his eyes.

"I was unaware." Spock replied impatiently, clearly annoyed at having been interrupted. "It was a short match. We…discussed the similar aspects of our childhood…specifically the tendency for us to become embroiled in fights. I…offered him a hand in comfort and he suggested we retire for the night…he wrapped his arms around my torso…and ran away when he released me."

"Shit." Bones sighed, rubbing his face. "How do you guys always manage to go full tilt? I never thought you two would reconcile so fast…If I'd known…I wouldn't have left him alone…I'd have warned you. Something. I should have done something."

"You could not predict his actions." Spock told him calmly, finally taking a sip of his now freezing tea.

Bones took another slow sip of his brandy. "I _should_ have. Jim wouldn't be lying in there half dead if I just knew."

"Doctor." Spock set his tea down forcefully, eyes black ice. "Do not presume you are the only one to hold guilt. Of all people, I should have taken into consideration Jim's behavior and at the very least alerted you immediately. I was merely one room away from him and I let him suffer the entire night."

McCoy's eyes widened as he finally recognized the remorse in the other man. With a grimace, he poured the Vulcan a glass of brandy and pushed it across the desk.

"Alcohol may not do anything for you, but it's traditional when Jim does something reckless." Bones explained, returning to nursing his drink.

Spock raised an eyebrow and politely accepted the drink, taking a small, disinterested sip. It burned at his throat, an entirely unpleasant sensation that seemed all too appropriate to associate with the ever present, ever troublesome man known as James T. Kirk. He murmured as much, earning a hearty laugh and a knowing look.

It was frustrating, as he could never quite discover what everyone seemed to know when they gave him that look.

… .. .

Jim moaned, grumbling a little at the rough cotton scratching at his stubble. His first thought involved the desperate need to shave. His second thought was wondering why he was sleeping on his stomach, promptly followed by a half formed thought wondering why he was in Sickbay. That was more than enough to jumpstart his memory and remind him of the rather poor choice he made. Well crap.

Apparently Spock _had_ found him.

He attempted to push himself up, and found himself hampered by the presence of a rather large, automated dermal regenerator.

"We've had that thing on you all day." McCoy informed him, crouching down near the head of the bed, holding a glass with a straw in it. "Drink up."

Jim did as he was told, hoping it would slightly lessen the verbal lashing he was going to receive. When he was content that McCoy would believe he had had enough, he spit the straw back out and smiled weakly at him. McCoy narrowed his eyes at the smile, scowling.

"Well?" He said expectantly.

"Well what?" Jim drew his brow together in consternation, effectively confused.

"Aren't you going to ask how Spock's doing?" He replied seriously.

Jim's eyes widened and his voice raised an octave. "Spock's hurt? Where is he? What happened?"

"Oh…he's better." McCoy answered cryptically. "The glass was buried pretty deep though. And the damn stubborn bastard wouldn't let anyone help him until you'd been dealt with."

"What? How?" Jim gaped, worry flooding his eyes. "I…how did he get shards of the mirror…what happened? Is he alright?"

Bones sighed, taking pity on the man. "He's fine. He didn't have his boots on when he entered the bathroom to pick you up. He got glass in his knee and his hands too. It wasn't too hard, but the fact that he just wouldn't let anyone treat it was a big problem."

"Oh my God Bones…What have I done?" His voice trembled with horror.

"I suspect a cohesive list would be far beyond the human capacity to remember." A rather familiar, deep voice sounded somewhere to his back.

Jim squeaked, attempting to turn his head to see him. "Spock! I'm so sorry."

"I believe I instructed you to no longer apologize to me." Spock came around to the front of the bed, kneeling next to McCoy to meet Jim's eyes.

Jim was overwhelmed by the relief he saw there, and let his head fall back to the bed with a soft chuckle. "I'm a dipshit."

"Yes Jim. You are." McCoy informed him cheerfully. "Now sit still. I was about to take this thing off and have a look at your back."

"Oh." Jim nodded. "So are you mad at me?"

"To whom were you directing that comment?" Spock raised back to his feet.

"Mph." Jim turned his head to watch the movement. "Who ever would answer?"

"I am not angered, simply displeased. You had no reason to run from me."

Jim blushed a bit. "Sor…er…okay. I guess I panicked. How long was I unconscious?"

"The entire day." McCoy offered helpfully, placing a very cold hand on Jim's bare back. "And I am mad at you. What was that I'm cured bull you tried to feed me? Can I trust you not to make an complete fool of yourself when our guests get here tomorrow morning, or am I going to have to make sure you don't go anywhere but the bridge, your room, and Sickbay?"

Jim huffed, frowning. "I think I can handle it. And hey, I've got Spock if I have any trouble, right?"

That little question on the end was enough to still both of the other men in the room. It wasn't a self-assured question, asking for the answer it already knew. It was timid, reaching, fishing for what it hoped would be the answer. Spock didn't have to question the answer like he did though.

"Affirmative, Captain…Jim."

"Okay already." Bones said in exasperation. "That's enough. You can leave now you cold-blooded hobgoblin."

"Doctor my blood is-"

"Don't care. Go get a good nights sleep. I'm keeping Jim for the night, you can have him back in the morning in time for all those scientists to look at him like they'd love to be as far away from him as possible." McCoy informed him gleefully. "So scram."

He narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, but inclined his head in agreement. "Good night."

"Night Spock!" Jim called after him.

"…"

"…What?"

"Nothing Jim. Nothing." McCoy sighed. "Get some rest."

… .. .

"I'm fine." Jim insisted, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Seriously. Bones cleared me for duty and everything."

"Yeah." Sulu agreed. "But what happened?"

"I thought Scotty wasn't supposed to tell you guys anything." Jim groaned, casting a look at the science station, and Spock.

"Someone in maintenance said your room was a mess and that there was blood all over your bathroom." Uhura informed him casually.

"Can I keep nothing secret on this ship?" Jim asked incredulously. "It wasn't that big a deal."

"You vere in Sickbay for entire day! Iz big deal."

"I believe the relevant Terran phrase is 'It is none of your business.'" Spock said pointedly, fixing them all with a stony look.

Jim cast him a grateful glance. "Exactly. And on that note, work."

"That won't-"

"Stop you from getting the story from one of the nurses. Yeah. Sure. Shame _they_ don't even know the whole story." Jim winked, knowing he had effectively put the idea in her head. "Doesn't matter though. We really do have work to do. Now, do I have to use my captain's voice to get you to do it?"

"No Sir." They responded in chorus, only slightly exasperated.

"Sweet! You do respect me." Jim grinned. "Okay Chekov, where are we?"

"Ve are thirty minutes from Wulcan colony."

"Okay. Good. Sulu, you handpicked the transport pilots, right?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Bridge to security." Jim cast a curious glance at Uhura, who rolled her eyes at him.

Eventually he was going to remember what deck that was on.

"What do you need Captain?" Giotto's cheeky voice filtered through.

"Oh I don't know, my best security in the shuttle bay would be nice. We only have to herd all of our guests through to Sickbay, and then get them to their rooms. You guys did get the room arrangements Uhura wrote up, right?"

"Oh, we got it all. We're ready. I've enlisted the aid of the ships many yeomen to get everyone's things where they belong. And we've got nurses to help us with directing them through Sickbay."

"Sounds good. I'll be down there in a bit once we get underway here. Keep me clued in if anything seems off. It has been way too quiet out here. Peaceful doesn't sit well with me." Jim grimaced, glancing around at the all too agreeing looks he received. "Kirk out."

"Captain?" Sulu looked over at him with a nervous grin. "Want me to take the Conn. while you and Mr. Spock go down to greet our guests?"

"You know, I _can_ take care of myself. I don't need Spock to constantly keep an eye on me." Jim said indignantly, pouting.

"That course of action would be greatly appreciated, Lieutenant." Spock added as an afterthought, earning a laugh from most of the bridge crew.

"See?" Jim snapped playfully. "There you go undermining my authority again."

"I disagree, Captain. I was simply expediting the process, as I would no doubt have to hand over the Conn. to Lieutenant Sulu sometime after you already had differed command to me." He was a serious as ever, which only made it worse.

"If I didn't know any better I'd think you didn't trust me to stay out of trouble."

"You have a proclivity towards discord. It would be far safer if it were assumed you would find trouble."

"Hey now." Jim couldn't quiet manage a scowl, too pleased to actually be upset. "So far every time I've gotten in trouble, you've been there."

"I find that unlikely." Spock quirked an eyebrow. "You have been prone to trouble long before we met and have, further more, become embroiled in numerous problems without my presence."

"Sometimes I hate you." He grinned. "And then I remember just how great it is to have you around."

Spock's ears darkened a shade, but he made no other sign of being embarrassed. Both managed to miss the exasperated look on Sulu's face. Uhura did not. Nor did she miss the exchange, drawing her own conclusions. But…there was no way, right? And yet she watched the easy way Kirk gravitated towards him, unconsciously placing himself with him. And she watched the oblivious way Spock allowed it, shifting so that their bodies were in tandem, every motion a perfect opposite in exact time.

Did they even realized they looked like two people who'd been walking together their entire lives?

She continued to watch as they made their way off of the bridge. When she turned back, she caught Sulu's eyes. He nearly panicked when he realized she knew. She nearly panicked when she realized she wasn't imagining things. Their tense moment was broken when Chekov began asking what was going on.

"I'll tell you when your older." Sulu insisted.

"I'm never telling him." Uhura said pointedly, managing to look a bit pale.

"Vhy not? Vhat is happening?"

"Well…" Sulu grinned cheekily, trying not to look a little terrified. "There's something there."

"Vhat? Vhat iz there? Vhat are you talking about?" Chekov pouted, utterly frustrated at receiving absolutely no answer.

… .. .

They were in the empty hall, just a few feet from the shuttle bay, when Jim froze up. On instinct, his hand flew out, catching that of the man beside him. Spock straightened, nearly tripping as he came to an abrupt stop. He turned in surprise, and saw the momentary horror laying below Jim's eyes. Terror flashed through the connection of their palm. A terror at meeting Vulcans.

For the second time in an almost too short period, Spock squeezed his hand, though he was conscious of his actions that time.

Jim shuddered, and cast him a grateful, embarrassed look. "Sor…er…um…I'm not meaning to be intrusive…really."

"You are fine, Jim. Humans seek comfort in physical gestures." As if to illustrate, Spock squeezed his hand just a touch tighter.

If he was smug about getting Jim to trip every time he went to apologize, he wasn't showing it. His comforting words seemed to have the exact opposite effect of what he was expecting. Jim yanked his hand back to his side and darted his eyes away.

"Well…"Jim's voice came out a little strained. "I wouldn't want to burden you with my emotions."

Spock opened his mouth to tell him it was no burden, and found he could not voice that opinion. He didn't find it a burden. If anything, it seemed a weight from his chest. Something tangible in a chaotically ethereal world of emotions. He didn't wish to distance himself from the feelings racing through his touch. He wanted to hold them, intangible or no, tight against him, to feel those evocative emotions seeping into his skin and washing him in their depths.

His response was simply: "My shields are sufficient."

They were more than capable of blocking other's emotions. In all truth, they were doing so continuously. They were sufficient enough, though, to admit what he would not. And his barriers permitted Jim's emotions to slide over him, though he would never divulge he approved of their admission.

He had not only acclimated himself to the other's presence, physically and mentally, but was now welcoming it with well hidden open arms.

"Aren't they always?" Jim laughed, only a touch of resignation in his voice.

"Obviously not." Spock lifted an eyebrow, daring him to recall the many recent times that had been a problem for him.

"You know…I've been told I'm shameless." Jim looked up into his eyes. "I…I've never had _this_. This much to lose."

Spock stiffened, stepping closer even as he did. "What do you fear you will lose?"

"Nothing. I'm not the kind of guy who is insecure." Jim said defiantly.

"Indeed." Spock furrowed his brow, unsure why Jim chose this topic. "Then…I do not understand your topic of discussion."

"I just…" Jim sighed, carding his fingers through his hair. "I want to get this right. I want to get everything right."

Spock inclined his head, finally understanding. "You can do nothing wrong."

Jim pouted. "Bullshit. I do things wrong all the time."

"Then I will prevent you from doing so." Spock told him simply. "I too have much to lose, Jim."

"What?"

"Y-"

"What the hell are you two doing standing out here?" McCoy snapped, cutting Spock off. "We're at the planet now and you need to get your asses in there."

Jim didn't glower, but he came close. "Fine."

Spock's heart was racing. What had he almost said? It was the ship that would suffer a tremendous loss if Jim were to leave them. The ship. He must have meant as a member of the crew. He told himself this repeatedly, following after the two men as they entered the shuttle bay. Because there was no logical reason for the things he said. Nothing more than comfort.

He was simply trying to comfort Jim. That was the sole reason for his illogical, untruthful statements.

… … .. . .. … …

**Hoo boy. Call backs, call outs, and a little crazy. **

**It really is an emotional rollercoaster.**

**I did Scotty no justice as captain. I'm sorry for that. He's one of my favorites, but I've got no handle on him.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Don't own.**

_**To the questions about continuity details**:** Some things I just don't know. Others I willingly choose to disregard. I know Vulcans have a cannon body temp of 91. I also know Star Trek is one of the best shows for contradicting itself within its own cannon. If any of these you spot are such huge deal breakers on the story for you…I don't know how you enjoy anything on this site.**_

**Now on to your regularly scheduled chapter.**

… … .. . .. … …

"Hey guys." Jim grinned, disregarding what had just happened in the hall to greet his security personnel. "How's it coming?"

Giotto turned to them and gave a lazy salute. "The first of the shuttles went out. They'll be bringing the doctor and all the kids up first, apparently. Then the scientists will be coming up with their experiments. So far they've estimated it'll take about ten hours."

"Ouch." Jim grimace. "So…wait. How many people are _in_ this colony? And how many are we bringing with us?"

"Did you not read the brief?" Spock quirked an eyebrow at him, only slightly surprised.

"Hey. I had other paperwork to do." Jim reminded, scowling. "Be glad I read the cultural report."

Spock blinked once, giving him a look that was rather flat by even his standards. "There were approximately two thousand and twenty-three Vulcans last reported living in the colony. That number is subject to change due to many factors."

"Obviously." McCoy snorted.

Spock ignored him. "We are accepting 135 passengers. Twenty of which are minors."

Jim pulled a face at that. "That many kids?"

"Yes, Jim. That many kids." McCoy rolled his eyes. "Which you would have known if you read the brief."

"So how long do we have until the first group is loaded up and brought back up here?"

"About ten minutes." Giotto said with a shrug. "The hard part is going to be moving the experiments. Those will take a while to load up and need to be transported very carefully."

"But not kids?" Jim snorted.

"I believe, Captain, you will find that Vulcan children are much more disciplined than Terran children." Spock rested his hands at his back.

Jim glanced over at him, and frowned. "I hope so. The last thing I need is twenty emotional wrecks on my ship screaming and pulling pigtails and getting into fights. I have enough of that with my officers."

McCoy and Giotto burst into laughter. Spock didn't look amused at all. Jim listened as the alert sounded, signaling the incoming shuttles. He turned to watch, heart fluttering a bit. There was something about the way it all looked that could take his breath away. God he loved space.

He missed the knowing looks all three men cast in his direction.

Because even Spock could see the adoration he held for space.

Jim managed to wipe the child like wonder from his face as the shuttles finished docking procedures and began their offloading. Small Vulcan children filled the room slowly, surprisingly orderly and looking immediately for the people in charge. Jim watched as his crew gently ordered them about. Two tall, dark skinned men caught his attention as they left their transport. One was clearly human, M'Benga. The other was a Vulcan, holding something in his arms.

"I didn't know Vulcan's could have dark skin." Jim said blandly, watching them a moment.

"Jim!" McCoy yelped.

"What?" Jim asked seriously. "I haven't seen a lot of genetic diversity in Vulcans."

"The Captain is correct in his observations. Such diversity, while present in the minority of Vulcans, is not uncommon though." Spock pointed out, even as he nodded to the two men who had caught sight of them.

They walked over quickly, ignoring the irate look several security officer's gave them. Upon closer inspection, Jim realized the Vulcan man was holding a small baby.

"You must be Captain Kirk, Commander Spock, and Doctor McCoy." M'Benga offered a Vulcan salute in greeting, his words and actions muted and stiff.

McCoy frowned. "How'd you guess?"

"It's a pleasure to have you aboard." Jim interrupted quickly. "Dr. M'Benga…uh…sir."

The Vulcan twitched an amused look at him, fairly subdued, but there. "I am Sunak. This is my son, Tuvok."

Jim glanced down at the poffered baby, and grinned. It was so small, soft looking, little eyes wide and curious. McCoy hissed in alarm when he looked down at the baby. Spock stiffened, halting his observations.

"This child shows signs of having been born pre-mature." Bones nearly accused.

Sunak inclined his head in agreement. "He was. His mother began suffering from severe…stress and it proved necessary for Doctor M'Benga to perform a pre-mature delivery."

"What happened?" Jim asked worriedly, eyes trained on the little form.

"The stress from the lost of Vulcan proved too much for her." Sunak explained easily. "She expired within hours."

Jim tensed, and Bones glanced anxiously at him. His blue eyes were dark, churning with hatred for that man. "I guess that's something he and I have in common. I lost my father the day I was born thanks to that madman."

Sunak, Spock, and M'Benga all raised eyebrows at the dangerous growl in his throat. McCoy sighed, slapping him on the shoulder. He winced, glancing apologetically at the present men. With a small note of interest, he realized Giotto was in another corner of the now cleared room and the pilots had returned to space for their next load of people. Sunak shifted the child he was holding and stepped closer to Jim.

"You may hold him if you please." He informed him even as he passed the baby on before confirming.

Jim tensed, suddenly holding a very small, fragile bundle. It burbled up at him in confusion, big brown eyes looking him over curiously. He felt so delicate in Jim's hands, like the slightest bit of pressure would break him. In the back of his mind, he realized what an honor it had to be to be allowed to hold this child. This little boy, so innocent, like he had been. This little boy who had lost both his parent and a home he'd never know in one day. Jim was simultaneously heartbroken and terrified. The fear came from his inexperience, his uncertainty. He couldn't begin to fathom the responsibility of being a parent, and why anyone would choose that burden.

Little Tuvok scrunched up his face and began crying, a loud, piercing wail that caught the attention of every security guard and nurse present. No one but McCoy moved to assist. The southern doctor chose to interfere because Jim nearly dropped him.

"Damn it Jim, even human babies know when you're scared out of your mind." He readjusted the now much quieter baby in his arms.

Jim flushed, bowing his head. "Sorry."

"You have done no harm." Sunak assured him.

Jim looked at him seriously, a frown in place. "You'll make New Vulcan a home for him, won't you? He needs that. He needs a parent, more now than ever."

He didn't miss the looks of surprise at his maturity, but he didn't care. This needed to be said. Sunak inclined his head in confirmation, eyes darting between his child and the young Captain.

"Good." Jim said with no modicum of relief. "Because I may not know much about how Vulcans grieve, but I know it's all too easy for people not to let go."

Sunak actually tensed, a moment of surprise passing through his posture. "I have seen those who were bonded deeply unable to move on. They suffer such a profound wound from the loss of their partner that they are hollow. It is true I was incapacitated at the time of my bonded, T'Meni's death, but I have an obligation to my child. My bond with him is strong."

Jim nodded, looking ashamed for having implied otherwise. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"You are an interesting man, Captain Kirk."

Tuvok giggled, interrupting the conversation. Bones was wiggling his finger against the baby's stomach, tickling him and grinning down at him. He cooed down at the child, ignoring the highly amused looks he received from the two humans and the curious ones he received from the Vulcans.

"Oochy-woochy coochy-coo, Captain?" Spock deadpanned, enunciating the sounds McCoy made.

Jim barely reigned in his laughter, but caught the scandalized, entertained look on M'Benga's face. "An obscure earth dialect, Mr. Spock. Oochy-woochy coochy-coo. If you're curious, consult linguistics."

It was all the three humans could do the keep from collapsing in laughter when Spock simply answered with 'indeed' and folded his arms behind his back. Belatedly, Jim realized Spock _was_ involved in linguistics. He probably just wasn't involved with many earth children.

With a final raspberry, McCoy carefully returned the baby to his father, cautious not to touch him any more than necessary.

"Um…" Jim attempted to return to the important line of conversation that had been immediately abandoned. "You'll all need work ups, if I'm to go by what my CMO tells me. And you'd probably like to get yourself acquainted with our main Sickbay."

"I'll take them there." McCoy narrowed his eyes at him. "Make sure you don't spend the entire day down here. Most of these scientists don't want us in their way anyway."

"Okay Bones. You can go now." Jim rolled his eyes.

"Live long and prosper." Sunak nodded once to Jim and Spock.

"Tushah nash-veh k'du." Spock inclined his head to him and raised his hand in salute.

Sunak tilted his head to the side a moment in consideration, before nodding. "Nemaiyo."

Jim scrunched his face up in confusion, watching the men leave. "What was that just now?"

"Nothing important, Captain." Spock answered easily.

… .. .

Jim was definitely smug when, seven hours later, they were almost done bringing everyone up. Trust his crew to be extra efficient to make up for all the delays that were bound to happen eventually. In the end, they usually managed to balance out. So far there were no problems, which just increased his certainty that _something_ was going to go wrong.

He was just dreading what could possibly lead to a three hour delay.

Sulu had stopped by at lunch to drag him off to eat. It was only mildly alarming to see scientists and small Vulcan children taking up a corner of his canteen. They were adamant on secluding themselves, though Sunak did nod once in his direction. M'Benga was nowhere in sight. He suspected he'd have two doctors to keep an eye on.

Spock was impossibly silent, as he had been ever since Sunak and M'Benga left with McCoy. Seven hours of silence. The most frustrating part was that any attempt to make conversation was met with a silent eyebrow raise. It wasn't until the last of the shuttles returned from their final pickup that he spoke.

Jim had once again been attempting to get Spock to talk with him by bringing up some of the experiments that were being dragged through when the Vulcan Commander went very still, eyes widening quite noticeably. Jim turned to see what he was staring at, and heard a soft gasp from that direction even as he did. Standing very still in a room of rushing people was a tall, beautiful woman with long black hair tied up behind her head. Next to her was a blocky man, hand possessively hovering over her wrist while somehow managing not to seem indecorous.

"Spock." She said softly, her voice slightly melodic. "You appear well."

Jim tensed.

Spock put up quite an effort to reign himself in, forcing himself to appear stoic. "I am."

"Hi." Jim interrupted with poorly contained annoyance, Spock's discomfort riling him up. "I'm Captain Kirk."

All three Vulcans turned to him as if informing him that he was interrupting. The woman fixed a wholly unimpressed look at him. Even Vulcan indifference couldn't disguise that emotion from Jim.

"I am Stonn." The man with her informed him, though his eyes never left Spock.

Spock, who was very carefully hiding his fisted hands behind his back. Jim gritted his teeth, momentarily making eye contact with Giotto, who had been carefully watching the entire time.

"So tell me, Stonn. What exactly do you do?" Jim tried not to snarl, and managed to tone it down to grossly defiant over confidence.

Stonn blinked at him in indifference, finally tearing his eyes from Spock. "I am a trained mental healer."

"Fascinating." Spock blurted out, sounding almost amused. "I was unaware one with such low telepathic ratings as yourself would be considered for such a position."

Jim bristled, shocked by the blatant insult. Apparently so was the woman standing there, because her sharp eyes narrowed.

"He is highly proficient." She defended. "I certainly find his mind has the necessary structure and control many are lacking."

Spock quirked an eyebrow. "Little control is needed when melding with those lacking depth and dynamics to their thoughts."

"Do not insult my bonded." Stonn said in what could be perceived as a clipped, tense tone.

"Calm yourself, Stonn." She said, almost sounding pleased. "Spock simply mistakes order for simplicity. It is a defect of his human half."

"I don't know who the hell you are, but you had better re-think what you just said." Jim snapped, earning surprised looks. "In case you had forgotten, it was a _human_ who stopped Nero."

Stonn very nearly sneered, but managed to reign his emotional reaction in. "I believe the Terran phrase 'fight fire with fire' is most apt. It would take one as unruly and uncivilized as a Romulan to catch one."

Spock very nearly snapped at that. Jim did, slamming his fist into the man's face. He stumbled back in shock, hand flying up to his cheek. The woman stepped back in surprise, eyeing him with what could easily be interpreted as alarm.

"Yeah? How's that for unruly?" Jim barked, watching as several security officers sprinted over.

"That is unacceptable, Captain." Spock informed him, sounding suspiciously like he was only reprimanding him for show.

Jim snorted, interpreting it as he pleased. "What? Too predictable?"

"What the hell is going on?" Giotto snapped, hand on his phaser.

Stonn was very still, eyes trained on Kirk. The woman had leveled her eyes on Spock again.

"You have chosen a poor path. Just as you always have, you allow your human side to run rampant. When will this foolish journey end, like all the previous ones before?" She spoke calmly, an eerie thing. "What shall be your next act of defiance? Will I again be the catalyst for your reckless behavior?"

As she spoke, Spock tensed, anger flashing through his brown eyes. The security guards took one look at him and rapidly backed away. Jim stepped in, grabbing her wrist and yanking her. She gasped in alarm and Stonn tensed, a dark, murderous look on his face, completely unrestrained. Jim released her as quickly as he grabbed her though, shoving her into her bonded.

"Get down to Sickbay and get out of my sight. If I catch you harassing any of my crewmembers, especially Spock, you'll spend your trip to New Vulcan in my brig." Jim glanced at Giotto, who immediately took over in ushering them to Sickbay before they could regain their senses and attack him.

Spock watched them go with a small sense of dread. "You should not have touched her."

"Yeah, I know." Jim said sharply, interrupting the deep, calming breaths he was attempting to take. "Who the hell does she think she is to speak to you like that?"

Spock turned on his heel and started toward the exit, startling Jim into following him. "She is T'Pring, my former betrothed."

Jim stopped, world spinning. Spock continued without him.

… .. .

"McCoy." Uhura caught up with him in the officer's mess.

He was attempting to enjoy his extremely late dinner. He also had no doubt she had already eaten.

"What?" He sighed, sitting back from his meal and resigning himself to another unwanted discussion.

She sat down primly across from him, narrowing her eyes in his direction. "What the hell is going on with Captain Kirk?"

"God damn it. What now?" McCoy sighed, having already dealt with the backlash of two furious Vulcans who had been subjected to Jim's rampant emotionalism.

"Have you seen the way he looks at Spock?"

McCoy almost wished he had a tricorder or PADD to drop, because that would be par for the course with this damn subject. Fortunately, he had thought ahead when he considered taking a drink and didn't subject the lovely lady in front of him to a spit take. He did fix her with a suitably dirty look, thoroughly annoyed.

"Does everyone have to come to me about that?" He asked rhetorically. "I can't do anything about it. Trust me. If I could, it'd be over with and he'd go on having absolutely no clue."

"He has no clue?" She asked incredulously.

"Does it honestly look like he knows what's happening? He's hopeless."

"I don't think Spock knows either." She admitted, frowning.

"It's a wonder anyone can miss that." McCoy sighed returning to his meal. "Eventually I'm going to be able to have a discussion with someone on the crew that doesn't have to do with Jim."

"Sorry." She said with little conviction. "How did the check-ups go?"

"Ug." Bones sighed, rubbing his temple. "Apparently Jim got into a fight with a couple Vulcans. I thought Spock was supposed to be keeping him _out_ of trouble."

"What kind of fight?" She frowned.

"He punched a healer and then grabbed his wife by the wrist and shoved her at him."

"He…" Uhura sighed, shaking her head. "I didn't even know they had a healer with them. Does Kirk have any idea how dangerous touching someone who's bonded is? Let alone in a violent manner?"

"Not a clue, apparently. Sometimes I wonder how well he read that damn brief." Bines sighed, fixing her with an annoyed look. "The kicker is, Giotto says Jim got riled up because she was insulting Spock."

"What?" Uhura hissed. "That doesn't make any sense."

"That's what I said. He insisted she was insinuating there was some past between them though."

"Past…oh no. Please tell me her name wasn't T'Pring."

McCoy frowned. "Am I missing something? Why do you know about her?"

Uhura stood quickly. "I have to go. T'Pring was Spock's fiancée."

"Oh God." McCoy sighed, letting his head fall to the table as she rushed out of the room. "Why can't one thing go right? Just one?"

… .. .

Jim was sitting in the middle of his now very empty room when the knocking on the door started. Maintenance had fortunately seen fit to remove anything breakable. His chess set had been relocated to the rec. room and his books were sitting in one of the observation decks for everyone to enjoy. Jim approved of that much more than them collecting dust in his room. The…knickknacks…hadn't survived.

"Come in." Jim barked, not really paying attention.

Why couldn't he manage to do anything involving Spock without either him or some outside force royally screwing it up? He glanced up as the door opened, vaguely hoping to see his first officer, and jumping up when the caught sight of a short red dress. He gulped in alarm as Uhura stepped into his room.

"I'm sorry." He said quickly. "I wasn't thinking and I'm sorry and if he's mad at me could you please tell him that?"

She blinked, freezing. "I was hoping you had some idea of where he was."

"Oh." Jim's shoulders dropped and he quickly offered her a chair. "No. He's blocked me from finding his location and, while I could override it…it probably would be a bad idea."

She nodded, accepting the seat. "Kirk, what happened? You know you shouldn't touch Vulcans. Even if she was insulting Spock, you should have ignored her."

"I couldn't." Jim admitted wearily. "I just…I don't know. I saw red. They were double teaming him, and it just pissed me off so much. When that Stonn guy insulted me, Spock looked like he was going to snap, so I punched him…Stonn that is. At least it's expected for _me_ to be illogical. I…didn't want Spock to embarrass himself over me."

She scowled. "Are you sure his name was Stonn?"

"Yeah, why?" Jim frowned.

"Because…that was one of the men who…incited emotional reactions in Spock when he was a child." She frowned, awkward about sharing that piece of information, having no way of knowing if Jim already knew.

Jim tensed up, feeling for the life of him like his blood was boiling. Suddenly, the punch seemed that much more victorious. If he'd known then…well, he'd probably have needed someone to pull him off or would have gotten his ass kicked by another Vulcan. So it was probably a good thing he didn't.

"Why would they let someone like that become a healer?"

"Kirk, do you even know what a healer is?"

"No. Does it matter? I'm pretty sure they shouldn't be petty. It sounded like it had something to do with melds and it that's true than there's a whole slew of reasons why it's bad." Jim huffed, crossing his arms.

She sighed, shaking her head. "Okay. Fair enough. I agree with you on that matter. That isn't the point though. It takes a lot of training to be a healer. One has to become impartial and has to have complete control over their melds."

"Impartial my ass." Jim glowered. "I sure as hell wouldn't want a dickhead like that in my mind."

Uhura started giggling, clapping her hands over her mouth and attempting to give him a discouraging look in the process. Jim grinned, glad to have gotten a positive response out of her. When she finally fought down her laughter, she was still smiling, shaking her head at him.

"Is there anyone you'd like to have in your head?" She froze as soon as she said it, realizing what she asked.

Jim missed it completely, the context flying over his head. "Sometimes I think it'd be a lot easier to run this ship if someone was, but I doubt _any_ good would come of someone knowing what I was thinking. Besides, why do I need someone in my head when Bones and Spock already interpret everything I do faster than I can?"

She sighed, a little glad Jim hadn't caught on. "Just what kind of thoughts are you having that would cause problems?"

Jim leered playfully at her. "Absolutely nothing I think would cause problems."

She rolled her eyes, standing. "Real mature, Captain. Seriously though, stay away from those two. You could get yourself hurt, or worse."

"I can handle it." Jim informed her sincerely. "Just…let Spock know I need to talk to him if you find him?"

Uhura's shoulders dropped a bit as she recognized the hint of desperation in his voice. And he had no clue. She offered him a soft smile and a nod, agreeing to do as he asked. His face lit up, blue eyes shining, and she turned quickly to leave. He was hopeless and she just couldn't stand to see him like that. She all but ran out of his room, ready to return to her search.

Jim sighed, flopping back on his bed. This was not the right way to start this mission.

… .. .

Jim made a point of avoiding the cafeteria. The last thing he needed was to get in a fight before he even finished breakfast. When he got to the bridge, he was pleased to see the rotations were beginning to be used. He'd really left the majority of the actual planning to Spock. He was a little bit hopeless, he knew, but he could figure out how he had worked the schedule if he really wanted to.

The few crew members staying part way through Alpha shift were integrated immediately in the antics of his main bridge crew. From Chekov tackling people to Sulu laughing at some accidental innuendo, Spock effectively dressing him down painfully when he neglected to mention something, to Uhura's pointed responses. The only thing missing was…

"Jim!" McCoy stormed onto the bridge, looking positively furious.

"Right on time." Jim grinned, turning to look at him. "Do you need something?"

"You. In my Sickbay. Now." He growled, pointing at the door.

"What? What have I done now?" Jim glanced around seriously, hoping one of his crew could provide insight.

"I'm checking up on you every two days. New rule. At least until you start taking better care of yourself."

Jim puffed out his cheeks. "Hey now! I got a full nights rest. And I ate breakfast. So there."

"Good. And maybe this will keep you from having fainting spells on the bridge." McCoy snorted, dragging him off.

Much of the crew waved good bye even as he called for Spock to take the Conn. or save him. He left to Spock sitting down in the Captain's chair.

"Was that really necessary?" Jim complained as they sequestered themselves in the turbo lift.

"Yes. Jim. You asked for it." He pointed out. "Now quit complaining. I'm not doing this for my own peace of mind."

"You're not?" Jim scowled. "Then why are you doing it at all?"

"That green-blooded hobgoblin told me to." McCoy sighed, desperately wishing he hadn't listened.

"What? When?" Jim yelped. "Was it last night?"

"No. He insisted on it when you were under the dermal regenerator." Bones narrowed his eyes. "Why would he tell me to last night?"

"Er…" Jim shrugged. "He kind of disappeared on me yesterday after…ah…we got everyone on board."

"You mean after you laid your hands all over his ex-fiancée."

Jim tensed, even as they exited the turbo lift. "How did you hear about that?"

"They were furious when they got to Sickbay." He immediately directed Jim to a bed as they entered.

Nurses waved hello and he waved back. M'Benga swept in by the bed, pulling the privacy curtain shut. Jim nearly cowered at the serious look the man fixed him with, but managed to squeeze out a cocky smile.

"Hey. What's up?"

"You touched her." He said accusingly, narrowing his eyes.

McCoy rolled his eyes, running a tricorder over Jim. "We've already gone over that part."

"And I am sorry about it." Jim insisted. "But she was insulting Spock and there was no way I was going to let her get away with that."

M'Benga frowned. "Wait…you attacked her…and him, because they were insulting your first officer?"

Jim sat up a little straighter, looking just a little proud of himself. "Of course I did. I'd do it for any of my crew."

"I see…" He glanced over at Bones, who was shaking his head and picking out a few hypos.

"I…didn't hurt either of them, with my emotions, did I?" Jim asked nervously.

M'Benga raised his eyebrows in surprise. "No. Actually, they said they couldn't get a hold on your emotions at all. They were upset because you touched them, for obvious reasons."

"Oh. Well. As long as I didn't hurt either of them." Jim shrugged, wincing as Bones administered one of his magic medicines.

"Your blatant disregard for their culture is concerning." M'Benga hissed in distaste. "I am concerned for the safety of the scientists and children aboard. If I have to worry about you taking insult at every petty disagreement and letting it come to blows then I'm going to ask for you to be kept far away from any of these people. Do you realize that?"

Jim scowled, glancing at McCoy for back up. He just crossed his arms, looking at Jim like he should have seen it coming.

"Okay. Okay. Fine. I'll let him handle himself. But for the record I was doing them a favor. If Spock had punched him when he insulted me you'd be fixing his face right now rather than scolding me."

"Spock got angry?" They said at once, exchanging looks.

"Yeah. It isn't that much of a surprise. His ex and his old time bully double teaming him and then comparing me to a Romulan? Kind of riles every one up."

McCoy gripped the hypo in his hand tightly, scowling. "Your right. Now I want to hit him."

"Wait. Wait." M'Benga raised his hands, shaking his head. "I'm missing something. Start over and tell me exactly what happened."

Jim did just that. If M'Benga was surprised how unflattering the story ended up being for Jim, he didn't say anything. He seemed surprised at a few points, clueing Jim in on the fact that they hadn't told the doctors the entire truth. McCoy was officially livid by the end of his story. Jim ended by pointing out that he didn't find out who they were until later.

"I see. This will be dealt with." M'Benga ensured him. "I do have a request though. I feel it would be very helpful for both you and the children if you took some time soon to visit their class for a day. I can have it arranged with your yeoman if you would agree."

"Uh…Sure?" Jim glanced at Bones in surprise.

Bones was staring at M'Benga dumfounded. Seeing the opportunity, Jim dismissed himself and all but ran from the sickbay and back to the safety of his bridge. No one really commented on his return, though Spock did fix him with a suspicious look a moment before dismissing his behavior.

In Sickbay, McCoy dragged M'Benga into his office. One of the nurses had written 'Jim's Room' on the wall in lipstick. It was a particularly appropriate way of writing it. He'd be sure to figure out who did it and have them clean it up later. M'Benga leaned against the wall, watching him in amusement.

"What the hell was that for?" McCoy hissed at him.

"It'd do him some good to get a better look at Vulcan education. About that little story of his…was it accurate?"

"Knowing Jim, yeah. What's he going to learn from a day of watching them learn about things he already knows?"

"He'll see a lot about the structure of Vulcan society. Wiser men have said 'If you want to learn about a society, learn with them.' If he was completely serious about how that happened, there are going to be problems on this ship."

"Why?" He decided not to push the learning issue any farther.

"Bonds are tricky things in Vulcans." He said cryptically. "And they're even worse in humans."

"God damn it." McCoy hissed, slapping his forehead. "I'm just asking for one person who isn't seventeen to miss this other than those two."

M'Benga laughed. "They are pretty clueless, aren't they?"

… … .. . .. … …

**Seriously, who _didn't_ see that coming? I had the set up for T'Pring finished since the fourth chapter. I hinted at it in the second.**

**Now do you see that I waste nothing in my writing? Well…except for the intentional throw away jokes. And hey look, it's Tuvok…born way early, but the movie messes up a lot of cannon birthdays (coughChekovcough) so I can have this.**

**_Tushah nash-veh k'du_- I grieve with the. **

**If you've heard it another way, that's because there are different variants of it. And yes, I am this much of a geek to be looking into that.**

**_Nemaiyo_- thank you.**

**So how much do you guys like or dislike the chapters that start literally right after the previous one ends? Would you prefer if I got to something closer to a stopping point even if it made for more uneven chapters, or do you like it as is?**


	23. Chapter 23

**Don't own.**

**I love every one of you, seriously. It's great to know you're enjoying this.**

… … .. . .. … …

Kirk was about to miss another dinner in favor of staying on shift for a while when Rand located him. Spock and Uhura both paused in their exits, waiting to see what was happening. She looked less than pleased.

"You had better be grateful." She hissed, hands on her hips.

Jim blinked up at her. "Okay. Can I ask why?"

"Because that doctor, M'Benga, had me running around the ship all day because he wanted you to sit in on a child's class. It took me forever to get the approval papers and to get that teacher of theirs to agree to it. And then setting everything up! You're almost more work than you're worth." She glowered at him.

Jim squeaked. "Wait! He actually went through with it?"

"Captain?" Spock took a step closer, small frown on his face.

When Jim didn't respond, Rand turned around and offered an explanation. Uhura carefully pursed her lips so she wouldn't laugh at the thought of Kirk in what was effectively a middle school. Spock simply raised his eyebrows, allowing them to steadily climb higher as the story went on. When she finished, he fixed Jim with a bemused, though nearly invisible, look.

"Great." Jim finally drawled, rubbing at his face. "So when do I have to do this?"

"The teacher agreed to have you…proctoring the class for a couple hours in two days."

"Proctoring?" Jim scowled. "What exactly am I supposed to be teaching?"

"I suspect he'll tell you when you get there." She said flippantly, stalking off the bridge.

Jim glowered up at Spock and Uhura. "I don't suppose you know how to get me out of this?"

"I believe the doctor is correct in his decision and it should certainly prove enlightening for all involved." Spock replied unworriedly.

Jim tensed, instinctually wanting to lash out at that smug tone. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Vulcans have often proved to be rather isolated in spite of their claims of tolerance. Indeed, many practice IDIC in theory only." Spock responded easily, taking note of the sharpness in Jim's voice.

Said captain scowled at the thought of such behavior. A small part of him realized Spock once again used the term 'Vulcans'. It always seemed so weird hearing him refer to one half of himself in such a manner. Sometimes it seemed like he was doing it to deflect, and identify himself only with Vulcans. Other times, like just then, it seemed as if he were distancing himself. Clearly that was something they were going to have to work on.

"What's IDIC?"

"Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations." Uhura offered quickly.

Jim's mind caught the implications immediately, and a dark grin split his face. Uhura jolted, giving Spock a worried look. He simply stared at Jim, who was slowly beginning to look down right evil with the mischievous glint in his eyes.

"You don't say…" He purred, steepling his fingers.

"Kirk." Uhura said warningly, narrowing her eyes at him. "Whatever you're thinking, don't."

"My thoughts are innocent." He insisted.

She snorted, rolling her eyes. "Oh sure. Because I believe that."

"Don't worry about it." Jim said dismissively, waving her off.

"Will you be joining us for dinner?" Spock asked quickly, before Jim could re-immerse himself in work.

Jim and Uhura both snapped their heads to him, equal looks of shock on their faces. Spock blinked innocently at them, waiting patiently for his answer. Slowly, Jim gave his a silent nod, staring at him like he were somewhere just this side of insane. Not that he was entirely sure which side _he_ was on anyway, but he was pretty sure Spock was standing on the edge with him either way. Point in case, he was pretty sure Spock was crazy.

Uhura watched rather dumbly as Jim stood, still a little dazed, and trailed after Spock. Quickly, she followed after, ducking into the turbo lift with them. Jim was very careful to stand as far from him as the turbo lift would allow, 'casually' leaning on the opposite wall.

"So…uh, sorry about yesterday." Jim coughed awkwardly, staring ahead at the door.

"I believe I have requested you desist in apologizing to me. I-"

"Damn it Spock!" Jim interrupted, turning his blue eyes on him. "This time it is appropriate so don't give me that."

"Um…" Uhura scooted back to give them free reign to glare at each other without her in the way.

"Nothing in your behavior yesterday warrants an apology to me." Spock informed him coolly, just barely putting emphasis on the word 'me'.

Jim scowled, hunching his shoulders over. "I'm not apologizing to them."

"I did not request you do so, nor did I assume you would."

"They were wrong." Jim turned to face him fully, squaring off his shoulders. "I'm not apologizing for doing the right thing."

"Then what do you presume you have to apologize to me for?" Spock raised an eyebrow, feeling he had effectively won.

"For not listening to you." Jim snapped, slowly reddening with anger.

Spock blinked, leaning back ever so slightly. "To what are you referring?"

"You said we shouldn't take the mission. I should have listened." Jim folded his arms across his chest, defiantly looking away.

Spock hesitated, glancing at Uhura to confirm that, yes, she was still in the turbo lift, silently staring at their exchange like they were both utterly insane. She shrank back a bit at the look, hoping to remain invisible if she simply tried hard enough to blend in with the wall. Their fight could go sour at any moment and she really didn't want to be in an enclosed space with them when it did. Still, this was proving far more interesting than she would have imagined. Spock flicked his eyes back to Jim, seeing that he was still staring petulantly at the door.

"My judgment in the matter was wrong." Spock informed him simply.

Jim's spine snapped straight and he swiveled his head back to front to stare blankly at him. "It was not. You were right. We had better things to do with our time."

"It is my belief that this mission will prove quite insightful." Spock inclined his head to him and stepped out the second the doors opened.

Jim gaped at his back a moment, immediately reaching out to drag him back. He halted the motion though, and immediately gritted his teeth, balling his hands in fists at his side and storming after him. Uhura watched them a moment, briefly considering heading to the officer's mess. The only good that would do would probably be to not be present when the fight finally broke out. Somehow, interesting won out and she followed after them at a presumably safe distance.

An extra wrench was thrown in the mix when they realized many of the Vulcans were eating in the canteen. Normally that wouldn't be a problem, but Jim tensed up immediately. Seeing this, Uhura directed him to grab them a seat in the farthest part of the cafeteria. He hurried to do as she asked and she immediately followed after Spock, who was ignoring them in favor of heading to the replicators.

"Do you really think it's a good idea having him sit in on a class?" She asked immediately, eyes darting to where Jim was sitting very stiffly.

Spock froze from where he was retrieving his meal. No. No he did not believe it was a good idea. It was highly illogical. It could be dangerous. He did not want Jim to sit in on the class at all. He wanted to head down to Sickbay and tell M'Benga that he had made a poor decision and should not meddle in Jim's affairs. But McCoy had signed off on it, obviously, or Rand would not have bothered. Nothing he could say would change the decision. No matter how he disapproved.

"It will provide a learning experience." He said cryptically, ordering Jim's meal while he was there.

That, Uhura noted, was not the answer to the question she asked. It wasn't much of an answer to anything.

… .. .

Jim laughed uneasily, feeling just a bit awkward sitting across from Spock and Uhura. Though Spock had insisted there was nothing between them, it certainly wouldn't have been hard to believe there was. He felt like such a third wheel. It wasn't like he could have said no though. Spock was never the inviter, always the invitee. So how could he discourage that?

If only Bones were there to make things less awkward.

…never mind.

Jim caught a flash of movement in his peripheral and snapped his head up. Spock and Uhura both turned immediately to see what had caught his attention. Stonn was standing behind them, dressed in informal robes, hands clasped behind his back, T'Pring nowhere in sight. He appeared to be waiting for acknowledgment before he began speaking, almost like he were pretending he hadn't effectively interrupted them just by being present. It was no wonder Jim briefly wondered how long his patience and manners would make him wait before he decided to speak up without being acknowledged. He could probably ignore him all night if he wanted.

"Stonn." Jim said tersely, attempting some form of manners.

Stonn inclined his head to him. "Captain Kirk. I wish to apologize for my behavior yesterday."

"Oh." Jim blinked at him in surprise.

"My behavior was inappropriate. I fear the stress of helping the members of the colony through the difficulties presented by the loss of our planet has had some toll on my behavior." Stonn bowed his head in a semblance of shame. "That is no excuse for my behavior."

"Um…Thanks." Jim glanced awkwardly at Spock and Uhura, finally sighing. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. It was unbecoming of a starship captain."

"Spock." Stonn turned to him, eyes a hollow cold, disregarding Jim's apology. "Ni'droi'ik nar-tor. Tushah nash-veh k'du."

Spock blinked up at him in surprise a moment. "Nemaiyo."

Uhura pursed her lips as the watched the exchange, briefly considering Stonn didn't know she could speak the language and whished his apology to have some semblance of privacy. Jim scowled, once again left out of the conversation. He almost recognized the words they were speaking, but he couldn't be sure and had no idea what they meant anyway.

"If you are not adverse, I wish to speak with you privately." Spock told Stonn, earning looks of shock from his human companions.

Stonn simply inclined his head in agreement. "Do you wish to do so now, or would you prefer another time?"

"Another time, perhaps." Spock glanced back at his meal. "Would you be amendable to meeting in my rooms in one hour?"

"Very well." Stonn agreed and offered a Vulcan salute before leaving.

"Why would you want to spend time with him?" Jim fixed him with an annoyed look.

"It does not concern you." Spock informed him easily.

That was almost a blatant lie. Almost. Truthfully, he hoped that, with his experience as a healer, Stonn could direct him to better from his barriers so as not to suffer from the embarrassing lapses of control he was experiencing. It was illogical to hold a grudge against the man, as they were both older and had gone through much. Therefore it was logical speaking to him.

"Fine." Jim replied, standing and clearing his tray. "Thank you for inviting me to join you. I've got some paper work to go over though. Enjoy your night."

Spock stared after him a moment, the corners of his lips down turned. Uhura rolled her eyes.

"He doesn't speak Vulcan." She reminded, continuing with her meal. "So he doesn't know he apologized."

Spock glanced over at her. "I do not understand the importance of this fact."

"To him, you just agreed to, and even sought out, spending time with someone who was the bane of your existence as a child and proved he was still a bit of a jerk already."

"I have already informed him that I am capable of taking care of myself."

She laughed hollowly. "That has nothing to do with it."

She didn't elaborate for him.

… .. .

It didn't do to be nervous, but Spock was. Though he held no grudge and, by all appearances, Stonn had matured, he was still apprehensive. Not of a fight. He had no doubt they would be capable of controlling themselves from such actions. But seeking the other man's aid was not easily done. Especially knowing there would be no secrets between Stonn and T'Pring.

That was why it was uncommon for healers to take mates. It lacked discretion.

Still, as they currently were, no one could afford to hold concerns over who was bonded to whom. It was necessary to form as many functional bonds as possible for the propagation of the species.

He was allowing himself to become distracted. With a well suppressed sigh, Spock stood to answer the door at the knock. Did no one actually use the computer functions on this ship? Stonn was, unsurprisingly, on time. Spock invited him in politely, secretly wishing they could forgo all of the formalities. He almost didn't have the patience for them. Yet another reason to speak with Stonn.

"Spock." Stonn interrupted when he was offered tea. "You did not invite me to your quarters for tea. What do you wish to discuss?"

Spock sat down stiffly, nodding once. "Very well. I would seek your advice."

"Advice?"

"Yes. I have found my barriers…less than satisfactory." Spock decided postponing would only prove harmful.

"How so?"

"I have found myself succumbing to emotions both foreign and internal. My own emotions better me when I have been exposed to those of my peers. I would seek your aid in learning a greater method for forming my barriers so that they may be proficient."

"Would you allow me to inspect your barriers?" Stonn raised his hand preemptively.

Spock stiffened. "I do not with to burden you in such a manner. I am not in need of your skills as a healer."

"I would not presume such." Stonn informed him, hand still poised. "Nor would I attempt to heal you if there is nothing wrong. I am unable to direct you to better form your shields if I do not know what condition they are currently in."

"Very well." Spock closed his eyes, attempting to relax himself.

He was not prepared for Stonn's attempt to meld with him, though, and immediately rejected him. Stonn didn't admonish him, simply nodded once in understanding and returned his hand to Spock's face. This time, he allowed the action, though he had to fight with himself not to pull away. Stonn was decidedly non-descript, barely a presence at all, and yet Spock was acutely aware of him.

Finally, Stonn withdrew himself from the meld, carefully folding his hands on his lap. "How long have you been experiencing these difficulties?"

Spock didn't pout, but he certainly felt like he should, because he almost wasn't sure it was relevant. "It has been approximately 22 days…I am not…entirely sure."

"I see. Was there an event that prompted this?"

It was surprisingly difficult not fidgeting. He desperately wanted to stand, even if it was just to get a cup of tea and do something with his hands. Instead, he held still, meeting Stonn's eyes.

"There was."

"I can not help you if you do not expand." Stonn prompted when Spock didn't continued.

"I was…forced to endure prolonged continuous physical contact with my captain, through no fault of his. I can not expand upon the details cumulating in the occurrence."

"What do you consider prolonged?"

Spock blinked slowly, allowing himself a moment before he had to answer. "Approximately a week."

Stonn raised both his eyebrows, tilting his head a bit in acquisition that it was indeed prolonged. "And during this period you were capable of meditating regularly?"

"With the exception of one occurrence, which resulted in a complete failure of my barriers and an…inexcusable loss of control. We were no longer in contact after that." Spock looked away, ashamed.

Stonn puckered his brow ever so slightly. "You may be candid with me, Spock. I will tell no one."

"T'Pring will know." He pointed out.

Stonn straightened. "It is true, but I can assure you she is bound by the same discretion I am. She will not tell others of your personal matters."

Spock shook his head. "I do not see the relevance of this."

"I do not believe your barriers are insufficient."

"What?"

He had a dozen questions he wanted to ask. Why didn't he think that was the case? If that wasn't what was wrong, than what was? How could he be sure? What should he do, then? All the questions ran together and he found himself only capable of asking what. Fortunately, Stonn seemed to understand how loaded his question was.

"I can not be sure, but I believe your barriers are sufficient. It is my belief you are currently overcompensating for the loss of emotional contact you grew accustom to while engaging in continuous telepathic contact with another."

"I do not understand."

"Your barriers are allowing emotional contact because you familiarized yourself with a certain level of emotional presence." Stonn explained easily. "It is noticeable, however, because you are not excluded to the captain's presence. The familiarity that accompanied his emotions alone is no longer present."

"What do you propose I do to rebuild my barriers properly?" If it sounded like complete bull to Spock, he didn't voice it.

"There are two methods you may find helpful. The first, and one I would not advise given the nature of the beings you work with, is to isolate yourself and undergo a cleansing meditation. It would take some time, and would only build up your barriers, not actually fix the problem you find yourself having."

"And the method you do recommend?"

"If your captain is amendable, I would suggest meditating with him once a day. The second time you would meditate alone."

"I do not see how that will help at all." Spock stood quickly.

Stonn watched him stand with what could almost be deemed amusement. "It would readjust your barriers. You're meditation while in contact with him…altered your barriers. To correct this alteration, you must ascertain the difference in your meditation when in his presence."

"I will not request this of him."

"You will not?" Stonn blinked at him.

"It is far too intrusive to ask of a human." Spock insisted.

"You are concerned it will burden him, or he will decline?"

"No."

"Than what is your concern?"

"I…I do not wish for him to agree because he feels he must."

"If that is your concern, you do not have to tell him the reason behind your solicitation. It would then be simply a request he was welcome to deny."

"You suggest I lie to him?" Spock forced himself not to scowl.

"Not lie." Stonn corrected immediately. "Simply find another, logical reason he would join you in meditation. The additional benefits it would provide are…not necessarily of importance to him."

Spock allowed the scowl. "That is disingenuous."

"Very well. It is your decision." Stonn stood. "If you seek my aid again, I will help you as I am capable. I will retire now."

Spock watched him leave, silent. He couldn't ask that of Jim. Could not burden him like that. Jim was not so foolish as to simply accept that he would 'like company' for meditation. And he would have to tell him. And then Jim would insist he help because even if he has proven himself immature on many occasions, he still values others as being of greater value than himself. He would alert Rand that he was to take the next day to…recuperate, and would not be on the bridge. While it was not ideal, he could not be absent when Jim was attending the class.

… .. .

He'd spent most of the night tossing and turning, angry with Spock, himself, Stonn, and pretty much anything else he could find to piss him off. Now, Jim sat stiffly in the Captain's chair, watching the change over for the Alpha shift. He scowled immediately when he noticed Spock wasn't at his station.

"Uhura, where's Spock?" He swiveled over in time to catch her surprised look.

She immediately turned around and pulled up the work roster, only to find Spock had requested the day off. When she told Kirk as much, he rolled his eyes and stood.

"Sulu, take the Conn."

"Yes Captain."

"I don't think you should do that Captain." Uhura warned him immediately. "He no doubt has a perfectly logical reason for not wanting to be on the bridge today."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure. I just want to actually know it." Jim crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly. "This month has been atrocious for commanding officers being on the bridge. I want to know why he thinks I don't need my First Officer."

With that he turned on his heel and left.

It only occurred to Jim that he had no idea what he was going to say to Spock once he was outside his door. Oh well. He'd just check up on him, make sure he wasn't sick or something, find out if there was anything he could do to help, yell at him if he was just avoiding something. Oh hey, these doors had alert chimes. Why had no one told him that? He kept knocking on doors all the time.

For the last three months, Spock and Kirk had been on less than friendly terms, so to say he was expecting it when the boisterous Captain came knocking on his door was certainly saying _something_. Or rather, to say he expected the person who was knocking at his door to be Kirk was what was telling.

Not that they weren't on better terms now.

"Captain." Spock allowed him in with minimal fuss, for times sake. "Do you require refreshments?"

"Nope." Jim popped back on Spock's bed, glaring at him. "Just an explanation."

"An…explanation. For my requested absence?"

"Exactly."

Spock sat down, nodding once in understanding. "I had deemed it necessary to take a day and rebuild my shields entirely. It is an extensive process requiring time and solitude."

"Oh." Jim frowned. "What's wrong with your shields?"

"I do not deem them to be operating at their most efficient."

"Oh that's specific." Jim rolled his eyes, standing. "So…you want me to leave?"

Spock blinked rapidly at him. Jim was offering to stay? No. He was confirming that Spock needed him to leave. It would be easy to tell him he could do as he pleased. Possible, even plausible to show Jim the basics of meditation and in doing so…and in doing so betray his trust entirely. He would not touch Jim's mind again, even in meditation. Yet Jim would let him if he only asked, vulnerably offering up his thoughts if they could help. He would allow Spock to touch deep, hidden parts of his mind he did not truly wish to share if he only _knew_ it would be of some assistance.

He was naïve.

"You may leave." Spock felt sick, having even considered for a moment that he were capable of such a thing.

"Do I have to?"

Damn it. Damn Jim and his blue eyes and hopeful looks and damn the eager way he waited for a response. He was making it nearly impossible on his Commanding officer and he had no idea. Spock wanted his friendship, and was keen to please him, but there was a great deal of trouble in simply plunging forward.

"It is inadvisable for you to stay." And yet he couldn't just tell him to go.

"Why? I mean, I'll go, don't get me wrong." Jim immediately backtracked. "But…why?"

Jim nearly kicked himself. What the hell was he doing? Spock needed to be alone, wanted to be alone. He, of all people, should get that. But he couldn't help but keep prying. But that was wrong. It wasn't like he was successfully integrating Spock into the activities he found fun. Okay, so maybe that was for obvious reasons. But he could find all sorts of things they could do together that didn't involve running around the ship like an idiot, couldn't he?

"Your presence may prove…distracting."

"Oh. Yeah. I guess I probably would be. That's why you always meditated while I was asleep, right?" Foot, meet mouth. You're going to be very good friends while Mr. Spock is near by.

Spock blinked in surprise. "I did not intended to offend you. It is simply that you are unlikely to derive amusement from watching me meditate, a fact that I would find myself focusing unnecessarily on."

Jim wasn't going to touch that with a ten foot pole. Mostly because he had so far on two occasions managed to 'derive amusement' from watching him meditate…and whoa did that sound terrible.

"I wasn't offended." He said quickly. "I'm being nosy. I'll leave."

It took Spock a moment to remember that that was what he had been trying for, but he found that in that second he'd managed to move, grabbing Jim's wrist before he made it to the door. It was with a non-existent start that he recognized the hollow, shielding happiness he had assumed Jim had ceased using once they were no longer forced to maintain contact.

"Your inquiries are no trouble." He said quickly, releasing him.

Jim grinned, desperately trying to reign in his racing, panicked heart. "Okay. But I probably should get back to the bridge. I was just complaining to them a bit ago about how often we aren't up there."

Spock's lips twitched through a frown. "Do you wish for me to accompany you to the bridge?"

"No!" Jim paled when he realized how forceful that sounded. "No. I don't want to take up more of your time. I should let you get to meditating."

"Indeed." Spock nodded half heartedly. "Then I shall see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

He was going to be shut in all day. All alone. Jim pouted. That didn't sit well with him at all.

"It is a time consuming process."

"So I guess that means I can't come back for dinner?"

No. That would prove detrimental. It would not give Spock near enough time to properly rebuild his barriers. As it was, only one day would prove insufficient. Shortening that time further was only going to prove dangerous to his stability.

"You may."

"Okay. I'll…uh…see you then." Jim hurried out, back to work.

There was fortunately enough time between leaving Spock's room to reaching the bridge for him to win against his blush. It took a bit of convincing since he couldn't shake the feeling that they'd just made a date. Which was, of course, ridiculous, since they'd had dinner together…alone…before. He had no idea why he was nervous. He'd already messed up with him while trying to make things better. As a rule, he only did that bad once.

The bridge crew wisely chose not to ask about it when he returned.

Spock decided the sooner he got started, the better. Not only because he had just shorted himself much needed hours, but also because he clearly was not thinking straight. He had been bothered by Jim's emotions. Immensely so. In part because he realized Jim was once again hiding his emotions, and in part because he could _feel_ his disappointment. Jim had wanted to stay and he'd let him before he even knew what was happening.

It wasn't good. He was caving to Jim's desires when it was a decidedly poor idea. Already, he knew he was succumbing to Jim's emotions. Destroying his barriers and letting Jim close before they were properly rebuilt would only prove to cause further problems. Who knows what trouble would come if he were to invade the privacy of Jim's emotions again?

He couldn't allow that to happen.

… .. .

Twitchiness was generally a pretty good sign that something was on Jim's mind. He managed to avoid his crew because he knew they were going to ask why he was acting so weird after visiting Spock. And he wasn't sure himself. That was also why he wasn't taking his lunch with Bones. Bones would have questions and comments, and Jim had no idea how to answer them.

So yeah. Lunch, alone, in order to figure out what the heck was happening in that giant handsome brain of his.

If only he knew where to start. Because rather than fostering answers, he was fostering a massive headache and a cold roast beef sandwich that had been accompanied with a hot au jus. With extra emphasis on the _had_.

With a disappointed groan, he started eating, realizing he'd already taken half his time to stare off into space thinking about Spock. That couldn't be healthy.

"Captain, may I speak with you?"

Jim snapped his head around to stare at the woman who had snuck up on him. "T'Pring."

… … .. . .. … …

**Dun dun dun…**

**So are they bad guys or not? You'll just have to keep reading to find out.**

_**Ni'droi'ik nar-tor**_-**I'm sorry.**

**_Tushah nash-veh k'du-_I grieve with the.**

**_Nemaiyo_-Thank you.**


	24. Chapter 24

**Don't own.**

… … .. . .. … …

T'Pring tilted her head ever so slightly, acknowledging that yes, it was her and Jim had not answered her question. He gritted his teeth, fisting his hands against his knees and nodding once. She sat down next to him, looking ever so prim as she did.

"Well?" He snapped, grimacing as soon as he had.

"What is your relation to Spock?"

"None of your business." He answered immediately, a knee-jerk reaction.

She blinked at him. "Indeed. I-"

"Wait." Jim interrupted, shaking his head. "I'm…doing it again. Look, I'm sorry. Usually I make a better first impression. Spock's my friend. That's why I blew up at you for what you said."

"I see." She gave him an inspecting look. "I suspected as much."

"Just here to confirm your theory?" He took a deep breath, keeping some of the venom out of his voice.

"In part." She admitted. "I wished to discuss your relationship with him."

"Excuse me?" He narrowed his eyes at her, not quite scowling.

"We have both matured greatly from our youth. My decision to challenge our engagement was not wrong, however, I believe now, more than ever, it is necessary to reconcile our differences. If we are to survive, we must all come together." She didn't hesitate in offering up information she had no way of knowing he knew.

"What does that have to do with me?"

"I would ask for your assistance. While he has matured…I too did not provide a particularly accurate first impression."

"No." Jim crossed his arms over his chest.

"No?"

"I'm not stepping into that mess. Your relationship with him is his business. I'm not so close of a friend that I should be privy to, or involved in, dealings with his ex."

"You are not?" She raised both her eyebrows in what probably would have been the equivalent of someone jumping to their feet and shouting at the top of their lungs.

"No. Why would you think I was?"

"Forgive me. I…misread the situation."

"Hu?"

"Still, you have proved insightful, Captain. Thank you for your assistance. I will trouble you no longer." She stood quickly, taking to walking very, very quickly out of the cafeteria.

Jim stared after her a moment, wondering what just happened. He was going to have to stop by and talk to Bones before he had dinner with Spock. Preferably without M'Benga there.

… .. .

It had been years since Spock completely tore down his barriers. Specifically, his second semester at Starfleet Academy. It had proven too stressful attempting to maintain his barriers as they had been before. So he recreated them, drawing from the lesson's his father had once given him. His father, who had taught him how to shield himself from humans, which was an entirely different matter than Vulcans.

Yes, his barriers worked against others, but there was something to humans, like few other species. They weren't even aware of their ability to worm their way through the barriers erected.

Even in the privacy of his locked room, Spock found it extremely difficult to completely destroy his barriers. His only saving grace was the incense, burning so thick as to shroud him from sight. Even then he felt exposed, raw. Almost immediately, he wondered what Jim would think if he could see him such a way. Would he be disgusted? The duality of his mind was a horrid landscape, uninviting, barren and terrifying, lifeless. It was the unnatural panorama of his hybrid nature. Would that scare Jim?

Or would he accept it? He'd already seen that Jim was, by nature, contradiction. Would he go against everything established and be intrigued by this artificial backdrop in the half-Vulcan's mind?

He fought against the illogical desire to forgo further meditation and find Jim, in his state of honest, rampant emotionalism, and seek his answer. He fought against the deep maelstrom of emotions, no longer contained, the fired passions of his Vulcan heritage. They screamed at him for action, for his deepest needs and desires to be met.

When he last felt the brunt of those passions, let slip when he unchained them, he had desired the blood of another cadet, felt the burning need to destroy. He had not succumb then, and he would not now.

He set about the groundwork, a foundation on which he could hold himself, and began the slow work of partitioning off his emotions. It was not going as he pleased, however, as he found himself struggling not to let his mind wander. It was not a common problem he found himself facing, which only made it more perplexing. Why now did he find it so difficult to keep his mind from Jim, T'Pring, and the others of his acquaintance? Why, when his thoughts, at least, were something he had never lost control of? He could, and did, push the thoughts aside, but they still lingered, waiting to be encountered during his meditation.

This was going to prove more difficult than he had originally estimated.

… .. .

"And then she just ran off. Like, literally, for a Vulcan."

McCoy rubbed gently at his forehead, eyeing the drawer in his desk he knew had enough alcohol to deal with his James T. Kirk induced headache. Fortunately, M'Benga had agreed to man the Sickbay while McCoy dealt with the eccentric captain. Now, he wasn't going to drink, but damn if it wasn't tempting. Of all the Vulcans to catch on, it _would_ be Spock's ex that had to figure it out.

"Don't know what to tell you. Those green-blooded hobgoblins all act funny."

Jim pouted. "I guess. Do you think I should tell Spock?"

Now there was a thought. "It probably wouldn't mean anything to him either. Women are like that."

"I meant about her wanting to reconcile things with him." Jim rolled his eyes, not really having time for a rant.

"Maybe. How should I know? She'll probably bring it up with him before you even get a chance."

Jim bit his lip, considering ignoring the opening for a moment. "Actually…I'm going to see him once we're done talking."

"You are?" If that wasn't suspicion coloring his voice, McCoy had just swallowed something prickly and it was stuck in his throat.

Jim attempted, unsuccessfully, to quirk an eyebrow at him. "Yeah. Is that a bad thing?"

"No." McCoy shrugged.

"I'll eat breakfast all alone with you to make up for leaving you down here all alone." Jim promised, smirking.

"That's alright." He responded dryly in protest. "I'm actually enjoying the chance to talk with someone who understands medicine."

Jim gasped in mock horror. "Don't tell me you've made a friend."

"One who doesn't need me to stitch him up on a weekly basis." McCoy countered, playfully scowling.

"I feel so wounded." Jim whimpered sarcastically, holding his hands to his chest. "I'm going to go spend time with someone who actually gives a damn about me."

"There's someone like that on this ship?"

"You're going to miss me when I start spending all my time with Spock." Jim warned. "Just you wait."

… .. .

Jim had stopped by his quarters first to change out of his command tunic, before dropping in on Spock. Outside of his door, because damn it shared doors were too freaking intimate, Jim plucked uncomfortably at his undershirt. He was still in regulation pants and boots and couldn't help but wonder if Spock would prefer for him to change into something less…formal. He was right there, he could put on some of his shore leave clothes. But Spock was probably already wondering where he was and it wasn't like he ever paid any attention to what Jim was wearing anyway, right?

When did he get so girly, worrying about what he was wearing to a normal dinner with a friend?

He rang at the door, fixing a shit eating grin firmly in place. Nerves just wouldn't do.

Spock tensed immediately as the bell rang. He'd stopped meditating approximately fifteen minutes before, clearing the incense from his room and attempting to acclimate himself to the differences in his barriers. Even incomplete, they felt more stable than they had before. Perhaps it would prove necessary for him to repeat this course of action when he could fully dedicate himself to the task.

When he opened the door, the first thing to catch his attention was that Jim wasn't wearing his golden command tunic. A minor curiosity he chose to ignore. He immediately stepped aside to let Jim in, watching as he sauntered past with a cheerful hello.

"So…how did your meditation go?" Jim scratched idly at his neck.

"It was sufficient." Spock admitted, gesturing for Jim to take a seat.

Jim flopped back onto the bed with a groan. "Hey Spock, can I tell you something?"

"Of course." Mildly curious, but not anxious…good.

"Your ex talk to me at lunch today."

Okay, so much for not anxious. "She did?"

Jim sat up, and frowned immediately when he realized Spock had remained standing. Noticing this look, Spock took a seat at his desk and prompted him to continue with his story.

"She had it in her head that I could convince you to forgive her…or something. I don't know. It isn't really my business. I just thought you should know because…well, it is _your_ business." Jim shrugged, suddenly feeling awkward and feeling like he should have left it alone.

"Thank you, Jim." Spock finally said, still looking a bit perplexed.

"So…uh…dinner?"

"Of course." Spock stood again. "Do you wish to head to the mess, or eat here?"

"Here's nice. I don't really want to deal with a bunch of people right now." Jim slid down to sit on the floor, grinning when Spock cocked an eyebrow at him.

Silently, Spock ordered them meals from the replicator and joined Jim on the floor. This was met with a fit of chuckles. Spock waited until he finished to fix him with an admonishing little look.

"So you shouldn't be getting excessive…uh…readings off of people anymore, right?" Jim darted his eyes down to his meal to miss the look Spock gave him.

It was a fairly standard look, though mildly amused. "I should not."

"That's good, right? I mean, it was bothering you, getting all those emotions and…hey, were you getting thoughts too?"

"I was not." Spock chose to ignore the majority of his statement. "My barriers were sufficient for that, at least."

"Oh…okay." Jim coughed awkwardly.

They settled into silence again, and Jim found he wasn't overtly uncomfortable with the silence. Apparently the problem was when he tried to make small talk. When he finished, he leaned back on the floor, gazing up at the lights on the ceiling. He heard Spock collecting their plates and disposing of them and hummed softly in thanks. When he glanced over, he met chocolate colored eyes, watching him curiously.

"Do I have to say something stupid or overly personal?" Jim asked softly.

Spock shot him an incredulous look. "I would presume not."

Jim laughed, sitting up. "That's good. I don't feel like ruining the mood right now."

"Indeed." Spock moved to settle next to him on the floor.

Jim gave him a lazy little smile. "So what do you want to talk about?"

"There is no reason we must constantly speak." Spock reminded him, lips twitching through an indulgent smirk.

"Hm." Jim hummed in agreement, letting his eyes fall closed. "Silence isn't so bad when you're here."

Spock blinked at him in surprise, unsure of what, exactly, he was saying. Why would silence bother him? And why would being in someone else's presence make that better? He didn't ask him to elaborate though, watching the easy rise and fall of Jim's chest.

How much sleep had Jim been getting? He still looked so much less vibrant than when they first met. He looked exhausted. Spock resolved to do what he could to alleviate some of Jim's stress. First, he would find out who held a grudge against Jim, and was capable of forcing him to do unnecessary work. It was beginning to appear, though, that the shorter list was who was Jim's allies. It seemed you were either against or for him, as he was such a polarizing man.

Jim mumbled something incoherent even to his superior hearing. It was about then he realized the other man was falling asleep, listing to the side and vainly attempting to stay awake. It was oddly endearing to see him trying so hard, like a child would. Gently, he lifted Jim and settled him on the bed.

A strange, possessive warmth radiated through him as he watched the other man curl up immediately, cuddling into the sheets.

He quickly squashed it, feeling rather terrified by his own instincts. He had no reason to regard Jim as someone needing his protection. And there was no other reason for him to feel possessive, was there?

He shook it off, heading to his computer. He had work to do. Research. And it all would start with those e-mails Pike had forwarded him.

… .. .

Jim sighed in content as he found himself drifting out of a blissfully dream-free sleep. He snuggled deeper into the blankets around him, breathing deeply of the spicy sent assaulting his nose and seemed to melt comfortably in the slight heat of the room. It only took him a moment to realize he was not in his room.

Spock jolted from his work at the computer, leaping to his feet at the sound of Jim's screaming. And it certainly was _not_ a shout. His heart raced as he immediately rushed to Jim's side. Said blond haired captain was panting, franticly glancing about himself. When his eyes fell on Spock, he calmed visibly, clutching at his chest in his panic.

"Hey." He wheezed, gasping a bit.

"Are you alright Jim?" Spock's lips twitched through a frown as he took a seat at the edge of the bed.

"Yeah, yeah." Jim rasped, still trying to reign in his heartbeat. "What happened?"

"…" Spock fixed him with a bemused look, as though he weren't sure what he was supposed to be saying.

It took Jim a bit to realized Spock assumed he was asking about his shouting, which he naturally wouldn't understand. "I mean…what happened a bit ago. Weren't we just eating dinner?"

Spock restrained a smile, because it was unbecoming. "You fell asleep. I deemed it necessary to allow you your rest. It has been approximately 7.54 hours since you fell asleep."

Jim frowned at that. "Why would you do that? And why didn't you put me in my room?"

"As I stated, I deemed it necessary to let you rest." Spock looked back at his desk. "I was…busy with work. It was far less time consuming to place you there, and proved no problem as I did not intend to use the bed."

Jim found himself staring in wonder at his First Officer. "Oh…I…I should get ready for my shift."

"Indeed." Spock returned to his desk to close down his work before Jim got a mind to look at it.

Jim immediately made his way for the front door, earning a bewildered look. Jim stopped, blinking at Spock like he'd just been caught doing something he shouldn't.

"Would it not prove more efficient to go through the bathroom door?" Spock asked politely.

Jim's heart leapt into his throat and he felt heat rising to his cheeks. "I…yeah, you're right. I'll just…go then."

He raced through the door of their adjoining bathroom, feeling like a child for all that he was so embarrassed. He just hoped Spock had no idea how utterly awkward he felt. Especially since he'd almost walked out of Spock's room after spending the night there. The last thing he needed were more rumors on the ship. Stopping in front of the mirror, he splashed cool water on his face. He needed to get a change of clothes and get cleaned up.

… .. .

Any embarrassment he'd still been harboring when he got out of the shower was promptly dismissed when he got to the bridge, and remembered he had to sit in on a class later. His nervousness wasn't unwarranted. They wanted him to be near children. They wanted him to talk to children. He wasn't good with children. Especially not ones that were telepaths.

Breakfast with Bones had been quite. Oddly so. When Jim tried asking what was eating the Doctor, he just shook his head and said it was nothing. When McCoy asked what was wrong with him, he immediately started talking about how he was following all of McCoy's orders to get back into good health.

They both left feeling suspicious and confused.

"Uhura, did you ever figure out what that radio silence was all about?" Jim was running through his morning procedure when it occurred to ask.

"No, Captain." She frowned delicately.

"Okay…Keep an ear to it." He frowned, folding his arms across his chest. "Spock…"

He froze, words stuck in his throat. Spock had turned to look at him, inquisitive, chocolate eyes slightly dark, brow furrowed ever so slightly. He was the picture of stanch concentration. That worried him, blue eyes widening a bit. He heard an awkward cough and glanced around to see everyone staring at him. How long had he been silent? He looked back to see Spock watching him with one eyebrow quirked.

"Report." Jim mumbled, sinking a bit into his chair.

"All readings appear normal, Captain. I…"

"Yeah?" Jim sat up immediately when he trailed off.

"I would like to perform a long range scan."

If Jim was aware of the rest of the bridge going very ridged, he didn't act like it. To point, he relaxed, smirking at him.

"Of course." He sounded a little relieved.

"Thank you, Captain."

"In fact, keep them up, every few hours. Make sure the other shifts know to do it too." Jim nonchalantly crossed his legs, trying to make it sound like it was a normal procedure.

Spock nodded once in agreement and returned to working at his station. The reading was, unsurprisingly, perfectly normal. It did nothing to set his worry at ease nor, he suspected, the crew's. Everyone was suspecting something would happen. Given their current track record, it wasn't too hard to believe.

It was a while into the shift, just a hour before lunch, when Rand came to collect him to deal with children. It was like a bucket of ice dropped over the entire bridge. They all gazed at him sympathetically as he sighed and stood to follow her. In the process, he waved Spock over to take the Conn. Seeing that there was nothing left he could do to put it off, Jim straightened himself up and headed off to his doom. The walk there was vaguely reminiscent of the old vids he watched of inmates being taken to the electric chair.

He wasn't all that surprised to walk in and see nineteen children sitting cross-legged on the floor, listening intently to their instructor. Fortunately, it wasn't anyone he recognized. He nodded once for him to come over and Rand mysteriously disappeared. Little children with big, disproportionate eyes, as all children are wont to have, blinked owlishly at him, observing intently.

Fortunately, he didn't trip in front of them.

"This is James T. Kirk, Captain of the starship Enterprise." The man offered in monotone, gesturing minimally to him.

"Hello." Jim waved politely.

The small children all raised their hands in greeting, inclining their heads to him. It took a bit of effort to keep the look of horror off his face. There was something about them all acting in unison that sent a chill up his spine. Especially since they were children.

Brushing if off, he grinned at them. Several blinked in response, subtly leaning closer to look at him. The instructor deemed it appropriate to begin speaking again.

"The Doctor requested his presence in an effort to teach him our culture." If he didn't know better, Jim would have thought he was being a smug jerk. "To facilitate this, we will begin with a discussion on the mores and conventions of Vulcan culture."

"Uh…hey," Jim interrupted sheepishly. "There actually is something I'm really curious about."

"Yes?"

"IDIC."

The instructor quirked an eyebrow at him, before turning to the children and nodding. One silently raised their hand for attention, and began speaking as soon as he made eye contact.

"The concept of IDIC is Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations, the belief that valuable knowledge may be gained from any combination of the intermixing of races." She was notably very stiff in her voice, eyes darting between Kirk and her teacher. "There are infinite permutations available given the unknown number of aliens in the universe and the nature of percentages.

The teacher nodded, glancing over as another student raised his hand.

He sounded remotely less amused. "It is an outdate principal. Logic is all that is necessary for knowledge."

Jim had to remind himself it was indecorous to slap a child. The instructor glanced in his direction, before returning to the boy.

"Expand."

"We are capable of creating medicine and technology at a far greater pace than those species that do not rely upon logic. Further, there is no more knowledge to gain from a creature ninety percent human and ten percent Orion than from one who is eighty-nine percent human and eleven percent Orion."

"The technology differs." The girl pointed out. "One can assume there would be minuet changes within a one degree variance worthy of cataloguing."

"The technology is inefficient. And perhaps it would be noticeable within one degree, but not so within less than half a degree."

"Not all alien technology is inefficient."

"Most noticeable in those assisted in their creation by Vulcans."

Jim laughed. He didn't mean to, but the argument was so damn familiar to him by now that he could recite it in his sleep. He was definitely siding with the little girl.

"Your laughter is illogical." The boy informed him.

"So why am I laughing?" Jim grinned, noting that the instructor sat back to watch the exchange.

"Perhaps brain damage?"

"He finds our argument humorous, no doubt because he has already reached a conclusion on the matter." The girl informed him.

"He finds humor in the nature of the debate." Another child insisted.

Soon they broke out in debate. The teacher watched the organized way they argued their points for why he would be laughing. In the process, Jim managed to start laughing hard enough he found it difficult to breath.

"Okay!" Jim interrupted. "Give me a break, you're killing me."

"Your continued humor perplexes me." The boy said, hinting at a touch of annoyance.

"Why, because you can't logic it out?" Jim's grin widened when they boy looked struck.

"There is no logic to your actions!" He insisted, drowning out the half laughs of a couple of the students. The instructor fixed them with a sharp look, silencing them as the young boy took to effectively pouting.

"You know, you could try…oh, asking."

"It is logical to collect data in every way determinable." The girl agreed. "As you are sentient, you are capable of answering our questions."

"The answers would be illogical."

"Okay, you? I'm really starting to think you have no idea how these things work." Jim shook his head. "I mean really, how would you ever survive as an ambassador or a member of Starfleet?"

"Excuse me?" The boy snarled.

The teacher interrupted immediately. "Control yourself. He is correct. You lack flexibility in thought. As such you approach a problem from one direction alone, missing obvious information."

The boy hung his head, cheeks green. Jim scowled, not having meant to embarrass him. Having admonished him, the teacher turned to Jim, momentarily considering something.

"You find humor not in the conversation itself, but rather, the familiarity of it." He informed Jim, as a way of answering the question.

"How'd you figure that out?" Jim wasn't incredulous, just playing devil's advocate.

"Your humor derived from the interactions of the two students. You continued to laugh only when they were at odds." He instructed, ensuring the children took something from it. "Though it is illogical, the nature and format of the argument reminded you of a similar occurrence between another two of your companions. As they are no doubt adults, the absurdity of such an association further compounded your humor."

Jim nodded, trying not to grimace at the weird, textbook analysis of his amusement. Several of the children looked at him in wonder. Jim looked around wondering what to do now. Seeing a lull in the conversation, the teacher took it upon himself to instigate further discussion.

"You brought into discussion ambassadorial and Starfleet work. Expand."

Suddenly, Jim felt like a kid again, being lectured. Damn Starfleet. He sat down on the ground crossing his legs and humming in thought. The teacher accompanied him, waiting patiently for him to explain.

"Okay, here's a textbook example. You're on a first contact mission. The species you're encountering has a cultural practice you don't understand, that you don't have any reason to participate in whatsoever because of your cultural system. It has a side effect, or in fact, the only effect, that is less than ideal for you. To their culture, trying to avoid it, or remove the effect in anyway other than their dictated method, is a punishable crime. Maybe the effect officially violates your own rights as according to your society though. What do you do?"

"Leave." One student poffered. "If they can not accept others cultural practices, they are not important."

"The same could be said of you, denying their practice while on their home world." Jim reminded.

"Accept their cultural value." The girl replied haughtily.

"It's infringing upon your rights." Jim scolded. "Perhaps seriously."

"There is no right answer." The boy accused. "It is a no-win situation."

"Your wrong." Jim scowled. "There is no such thing as a no-win scenario."

"Then what are you supposed to do?" The teacher asked, officially annoyed himself.

Feeling just a little smug, Jim grinned. "First of all, you ask. You didn't even find out what it was infringing upon or how big a crime it was to decline. If it was tantamount to murder in your society, but just a fine for declining, you're likely to say no. Similarly, if it's basically a minor taboo to you, but they'd consider declining an act punishable by death, you say yes. If it's minor to both of you, then explain the differences in your culture and you may just have made a big impact on future negotiations. Second, how important is the deal your making? Are people going to die or is development going to be set back until you find another planet with the resources you need on it, if you decline? Or is it just introducing someone new to your culture and there are no losses in leaving?"

"What are you to do if it is instrumental in the lives of others, and yet the requested act is inexcusable in both act and refusal?" The girl asked.

"You try negotiation. If that doesn't work, you try deception. And if all else fails, you do what you must to save as many lives as possible, both of your people and theirs." Jim answered grimly.

"If they were logical, there would be no need to loose any lives." The boy just about sneered.

Jim had him. "Oh really? And what exactly makes you think their ideas aren't the logical ones?"

"Clearly they aren't."

"That isn't an answer."

"I…that is…uh-" The boy spluttered, looking to his teacher.

"Let me try it this way." Jim grinned smugly, getting a little too into the debate. "You're old enough to know about bonding, right?"

"It is a part of basic studies around the age of five." The instructor added drolly. "As the majority of these students are over the age of twelve, they are fully aware of bonding."

"Good." He nodded, blue eyes sparkling with devious intent. "From what I hear they're pretty big deals. I also hear it's really uncool to touch someone's bonded."

He heard a hiss of distaste from every Vulcan in the room. Hook, line…

"What if some culture insisted you participate in a polyamorous relationship while on their planet? In fact, declining sexual relations is considered a high crime punishable by indentured servitude and death."

…and sinker. The room erupted into protest. Even the instructor looked harried.

"No culture would hold such practices!" The girl protested.

"Never met someone from a less pleasant part of the Orion system?"

And silence. They allowed it to sink in a moment, faces paling with the thought.

"Or how about the cultural practice of killing anyone who resorts to non-violent means? Like Klingons."

"That's an exaggeration." The boy scolded.

"Tell that to the Klingons." Jim rolled his eyes. "Or hey, how about a culture where touching someone who isn't your mate without their permission can lead to you being challenged to a fight to the death?"

"You are not as ignorant to Vulcan culture as you claim." The teacher accused.

"Next time I come out with a completely ridiculous idea, do me a favor, don't back me up on it." Jim deadpanned, rolling his eyes.

With gusto, he dove into conversation, explaining many of the first contacts Starfleet had conducted over the course of space exploration, including some hairy, accidental ones that didn't coincide with the Prime Directive very well. The children listened with rapt attention, trying to point out what went wrong, where it could have gone better, and how they could have predicted the problems that occurred. The last part proved more difficult than they thought it would.

… … .. . .. … …

**Yay for gross exaggeration. And angry children.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Don't own.**

**So thank you to all my readers and reviewers. You are so great, seriously.**

**Special thanks to _Doni_, who's a constant reminder that I don't suck, and _Happy4eva1996_: I read your review twice to make sure I didn't miss anything. I am so, so happy that you're enjoying it. I…I just have no idea what else to say; I'm speechless.**

**Enjoy.**

… … .. . .. … …

Things didn't fall apart on the bridge as soon as Jim left. Nor did they collapse an hour later when everyone took their lunch. It was fortunate, considering no one really wanted things to start going wrong. It was on a dull note that Spock realized they did have a habit of not being on the bridge. Surely that was at least one violation of Starfleet policy.

Most of the bridge crew was mingling, darting between tables and enjoying their lunch as a whole. Spock was sitting across from Uhura, perplexed by the silent stare she levied at him.

"May I inquire as to why you are regarding me silently?" Spock asked casually between bites of his salad.

"We don't have to constantly speak." She informed him politely, something he wasn't too fond to hear from her.

"I am aware. You have not, however, participated even in a customary exchange of words before the commencement of our meal. I suspect you have something you wish to discuss, but are not doing so perhaps out of a misguided assumption that it would be uncomfortable or unwelcome." He was watching her carefully, gauging her response.

She blinked at him, careful not to glare. Yeah, she wanted to talk. She wanted to discuss the Vulcans, and Jim, and Jim and Spock. She wanted to confront him on what he was doing the other day, skipping out _again_, especially right after having spoken to his old bully. She knew, though, some things weren't her business, and she wouldn't know where to start even if it were.

"I _was_ enjoying the quiet. We don't spend much time together anymore. Why? Was there something you were hoping to discuss?"

They both stared at each other for a moment before returning to their meals.

They both finished in silence, clearing their trays and carefully watching each other. It was on their way out the door when they ran into T'Pring and Stonn, very nearly literally. Uhura was very careful to back away and not touch anyone.

"T'Pring, Stonn." Spock inclined his head in greeting.

T'Pring tilted her head to the side, regarding him in interest. "Where is your Captain?"

Spock didn't bristle, by some miracle of Vulcan training, but a strange defensiveness settled in place. "He is currently participating in discussion with the class being held in the observation decks."

"No doubt an educational venture for both parties." Stonn replied almost pleasantly.

"I do not believe we have been introduced." T'Pring leveled her eyes on Uhura.

"I'm aware of who you are." Uhura said, only a touch bitter. "I'm Lieutenant Uhura, head of the communication department on the Enterprise."

"I see. It's a shame I knew nothing of you." T'Pring said offhandedly. "It seems the only people concerned enough to meet with the people staying on this ship that do not have to work with us are the Captain, Spock, and the Doctor."

Spock quirked an eyebrow at their behavior. He was caught slightly off guard as Uhura slipped her hand into his and tugged. T'Pring and Stonn looked like they had been struck.

"We should go." Uhura told them tersely, well aware of what she just did, but decidedly annoyed with the flippant way she had been dismissed.

Stonn very nearly scowled. "You're behavior is indecorous."

T'Pring looked livid for a Vulcan. "That you could do such a thing to your Captain…"

Spock blinked in confusion, completely blindsided by the current events. What were they talking about? Uhura flushed, realizing what T'Pring was implying. She couldn't help herself, she started laughing, drawing her hand back to join the other around her waist. T'Pring and Stonn regarded her with equal looks of near astonishment and disapproval.

"I should go." She giggled, wiping at her eyes. "I'll see you on the bridge, sa-kai."

She was aware of the mildly puzzled looks she received as she traipsed off. Spock watched her, feeling more confused than before. Stonn looked just as confused, for all that he understood she had called Spock her brother. T'Pring felt a bit out of her depth, unsure how anyone could logic out spending so much time with humans.

Back on the bridge, Uhura informed Sulu that T'Pring and Stonn had caught on. She then spent a few minutes explaining who they were. Sulu was falling about himself in fits of laughter when Spock entered the bridge. Chekov was pouting, not having caught on and only witnessing half of their discussion himself. It was equal part hilarious and down right sad. Fortunately, they needed a good laugh, so they chose to focus on the amusement in the situation, and not how badly it could end.

Half an hour later, Jim returned to the bridge, grinning ear to ear. That, the crew assumed, was a sure sign of the impending apocalypse. Apparently he had enjoyed his discussion with the children.

"I presume you found your time productive."

"Yup." Jim beamed at him, slouching into his Captain's chair. "I learned all sorts of things."

"Fascinating." Spock returned to his station, feeling more at ease.

"Like some really interesting words." Jim continued heedlessly, watching as both Spock and Uhura straightened. "Like, say…K'hat'n'dlawa…"

He watched Spock's ears turn green as he turned to give him and incredulous look. He'd spent some time learning to pronounce those words. The kids had been eager to teach him about Vulcan relationships, since he seemed so ignorant, and they were a huge part of their culture. He wasn't quite sure what they meant when they said it roughly translated into 'half of my heart and soul', but he had a pretty good idea.

"Or Ne Ki'ne…" Jim liked that one, understanding the concept of a shield partner quite well. "There are a few more they taught me."

Spock shook his head minutely. "I have no doubt you convinced them to teach you a few indecorous words as well."

"Yeah, at least I'm finally pronouncing them right. You're language is hard." Jim pouted playfully, catching the eye roll from Uhura with a well timed glance. "There were a couple words they wouldn't translate for me though. Not surprising. The teacher got all awkward and told them they were being impolite. I'm pretty sure this one kid was calling me some pretty derogatory names. If it weren't undignified, I'd have slapped him for it."

And suddenly Spock was very pale. He stood quickly, excusing himself, to the bafflement of everyone present. When Jim gave Uhura a bemused look, she shrugged. He cast a look around the room, receiving the same unsure look from everyone. Groaning, he slipped down in his chair a bit.

"Okay, so we're all in agreement I did something wrong there?"

"Uh…sure?" Sulu shrugged, not really sure what to say.

"Wonderful." Jim rolled his eyes, glancing at the door for a second and sighing. "This'll have to wait until my shift is over. I don't have time to chase after him every time I screw up."

"Iz mature option, no?" Chekov offered helpfully. "Iz not your fault child vas being rude. You did not do harm, da? If respecting the rulez iz not vhat they are vanting, I do not understand."

Jim tsked in agreement. "I guess."

In the turbo lift, Spock balled his hands into fists, taking deep, labored breaths. He was furious, something that wasn't really necessary, but certainly felt good. He had _known_ something would go wrong. Young Vulcans did not have the emotional control or etiquette that they developed later in life. As had already been proven, even adults became snappish. So it stood to reason he should have been there to keep some close-minded teacher and a group of children from insulting his Captain. How much of a failure was he that he couldn't even stop children from insulting Jim?

How bad was it that he needed to?

Spock hit the controls for Sickbay, wondering what it was about James Kirk that made him the target of such misguided emotional fluxes.

… .. .

"I get it! Now go back to work!" M'Benga called desperately, sending a pleading look McCoy's way.

"I do not suspect you do." Spock continued to follow him, prepare to delve further into the many, many ways M'Benga was wrong in his actions.

McCoy snorted, coming over to interrupt. "Out of my Sickbay hobgoblin or I'm hypoing you into next week."

"That course of action is unnecessary. I am simply stressing the importance of considering all the facts when requesting our captain participate in any venture. Further, as a human working with Vulcans, M'Benga should be aware of the difficulties involved in cultural barriers." He turned his nose up ever so slightly, haughty look in place.

M'Benga rolled his eyes. "He can take care of himself around a few children."

"That is not for you to decide." Spock fixed him with a dark look. "He had more pertinent things to do than spend his time attempting to familiarize himself with a culture he has no need of knowing."

M'Benga was staring at him, mouth hanging open ever so slightly. He'd have laughed at the absurdity of it, but he had visions of his throat being ripped out by a furious Vulcan. Not that Spock would go that far, but wow. McCoy did have the audacity to laugh, protected mostly by the fact that he was Jim's best friend. Spock glared at him.

"Are you listening to yourself? You have more important thing to be doing then spending your time down here ranting about how Jim's fragile emotions could have been hurt by some kids speaking a different language to insult him."

A full second after he finished speaking, they all fell into an awkward silence. McCoy, because he remembered where Spock was coming from and why he detested the idea of someone being insulting in Vulcan. Spock, because he realized how foolish he was being assuming something like _that_ would be Jim's largest concerns in dealing with children. And M'Benga because he recognized an awkward situation for what it was and wisely kept his mouth shut.

Finally, Spock glanced back at the door. "I have other duties to attend to. I would request you confer with me before any further decisions to subject others to Captain Kirk's madness."

With that, he left, headed back for the bridge. M'Benga stared after him a moment, skeptical look on his face. McCoy sighed, shaking his head.

"Welcome to the Enterprise." McCoy snorted, turning back to his work.

"I've worked with Vulcans for years now, and this place seems to make everyone act crazy." M'Benga shook his head. "I've never seen anything like it."

"That's Kirk for ya." He rolled his eyes, picking up a PADD to finish a few…extra…documents. "Love or hate him, he drives you crazy."

"And the people on the sidelines?"

"There are no sidelines with him. Here, take a PADD. You can help with some of these forms. Leave the tongue depressors to the nurses." McCoy passed off a PADD to him.

M'Benga looked at it in horror. "These are some of the most convoluted paper's I've ever seen. Don't tell me you always have to fill them out."

"Oh no, those are worse than the regulars because you aren't Starfleet." McCoy grinned wickedly. "They're about seven times worse for the Admirals though."

"This seems malicious." He said suspiciously, settling in for a long day of paperwork.

… .. .

When Spock returned to the bridge, no one asked where he had gone off to. It was safer to just keep quiet. That didn't stop Jim from sending him suspicious looks every few seconds, much to the bridge crew's chagrin. There were a couple hours left, and he couldn't even keep his eyes on his paperwork. He wanted to know though, so very badly, what he'd managed to do this time to screw it all up.

After an eternity, their shift finally ended. Jim was going to wait for Spock, but didn't get a chance. Spock approached him immediately, arms behind his back, his eyes the only hint that he was feeling sheepish. They regarded each other a minute, before heading to the turbo lift silently.

Everyone else wisely held back, heading to a different lift or meandering about to waste time.

In the lift, they didn't even bother starting it, just telling the door to remain shut. They exchanged terse looks, each waiting for the other to speak first. Finally, Jim sighed, shaking his head.

"Are we ever going to make this work?"

"I suspect not without a modicum of effort on both of our parts." Spock admitted.

"Okay. Fine." Jim huffed, crossing his arms. "I don't know what I did back there to upset you."

"You did nothing. I…overreacted to the admission that they were behaving inappropriately." Spock glanced away from him, slightly ashamed of his own behavior.

"Oh. Oh, Spock." Jim shook his head, sighing. "I can handle a few insults. It was never as bad for me as it was for you, so I'm conditioned differently for it."

"I understand. I also understand your discomfort with children stemmed from your own abuse as a child."

Jim inhaled sharply, eye going wide. "Shit. Was it that obvious? I mean, I didn't think I…I never actually told you about that, did I?"

Spock tense, suspecting there was something he missed, but Jim continued to ramble.

"I mean, I told you some about that one thing, but…not about Frank. How did you know….did you ask Bones? I swear to god if he told you about _Frank_ I'm going to kill him."

"I know of no one by the name of Frank."

"Oh…good, okay. Wait, then how did you know I'd been abused?" Jim scowled. "You didn't, did you? You were talking about the other…uh…incident."

"I was." Spock was watching him closely, trying to keep a hold on the ridiculous anger he was feeling.

"Okay, before you freak out, it was only one time." Jim told him quickly, noticing the tight jaw and slightly narrowed eyes. "Frank got drunk. He felt like shit afterwards. Like, bought me and Sam ice cream and spoiled us for a week because he backhanded me. But…it just freaks me out that adults can act like that with children."

"Even once was far too many times." Spock replied forcefully. "It would appear you have suffered a rather abhorrent childhood."

Jim laughed bitterly. "You don't know the half of it."

"I would hope you will someday trust me enough to share your past." As soon as he said it, he kind of wished he hadn't.

They both stared at each other blankly, embarrassed and awkward from the admission. Jim offered a half-cocked smile, shrugging.

"Just, not in a turbo lift, okay?"

"Of course." Spock nodded in acquisition.

"So…" Jim looked over the panel with mild interest. "Want to have dinner in my room? We can sneak out later to spar or something."

"That would be acceptable."

… .. .

It was about the time Jim settled in next to him, as close as he could get without touching him, that Spock realized something. Jim was purposefully avoiding touching him. He had been since the Vulcans arrived on board. It was decidedly just him, because he had seen Jim patting other, human, crew members on the back and shoulder and not being overtly cautious with the distance between them. He knew he should be pleased Jim was attempting to help him maintain some semblance of propriety. Instead, he was illogically displeased. He wasn't even sure why, but he was.

Deciding it was far too concerning to focus on it, Spock turned his attentions to Jim's room. It was decidedly bare without the now relocated decorations. In his musings about the now much safer space that was Jim's room, he missed the question he was asked.

"Spock!" Jim yelled in his ear, glaring. "Quit ignoring me."

Spock blinked, momentarily considering rubbing his ear before dismissing the pain. "My apologies, Captain. What were you saying?"

"First of all, don't apologize. If I can't then you can't." Jim announced stubbornly. "And I asked what you wanted to do now that we've finished dinner."

"I see…" Spock chose to ignore the apology comment, already knowing he'd get nowhere with it. "You mentioned…sneaking out?"

Jim grinned. "Well yeah, but it takes a bit of the fun away when I can probably get away with it without having to sneak around."

"Very well. What would you prefer?"

"Well, if we just go spar, Bones will find us…" Jim scowled, considering his options. "Hey, I know what we can do!"

"Jim?" Spock watched him stand.

A wide, genuine smile sat mischievously in place, blue eyes twinkling with mirth. "Come on, it's a secret."

"I suspect that it would be far more productive if you were to tell me where we are going." Spock pointed out, joining him.

As they wandered through the halls, Jim continued to insist it was a secret. Even when Spock realized the only place they could be heading to in the general direction Jim was taking them. Still, he humored Jim, feigning ignorance until they came to a stop.

"The holodeck?" Spock asked dully, knowing he probably wouldn't receive a response.

On cue, Jim winked at him. "You'll see. Come on."

Inside, Jim poured over the console a moment, looking for something specific. Spock waited patiently, hands behind his back, watching Jim. He was looking better, still tired, defiantly, but he had color back in his cheeks and his eyes no longer looked dull and lifeless. It was…relieving. The world around them erupted in dark, luscious green and the dim light of a full moon. Spock glanced down in surprise, surveying the waist high grass.

He missed the wide grin on Jim face right before he was tackled. After a short struggle, he succeed in pinning the blond man. Jim beamed innocently up at him, noting the curious flicker in his eyes and the amused twitch of his lips.

"Jim?"

"I think this'll do." Jim said confidently, glancing around.

Spock mimicked him, noting how their struggle had flattened a small circle of grass. He released Jim, moving to the other side of the clearing, just far enough away that they no longer touched.

"See, the only way to make a clearing in grass is by wrestling." Jim explained offhandedly, settling himself back, head pillowed on his arms as he gazed upwards. "It's tradition."

"I was unaware. Grass was uncommon on Vulcan. In addition, it was particularly sharp." Spock joined Jim, laying down.

The night sky was above them, a beautiful expanse of stars and moon, framed by the tall grass that easily hid them. A soft breeze whisked through the tall strands of grass, causing them to dance. Jim sighed glancing over at Spock.

"What do you think?" He cautiously didn't pry into the previous comment.

"It is…beautiful. I have often found myself amazed by the diversity of nature available on Earth." Spock didn't turn to look at Jim, staring up at the sky.

"Yeah. It's a shame the only beautiful thing left from Vulcan is you."

Full stop.

What?

Jim nearly jumped out of his skin when he realized what he said. Where had that come from? He wasn't even sure what he meant by it, let alone how it should be interpreted. He suddenly felt very cold, dizzy from the blood rushing away from his head. Spock sat up, turning to look at him with unfeigned interest.

"An inaccurate statement, given the existence of numerous species of plants and animals that, due to various studies and private collections, were off planet at the time of its destruction, that are no doubt aesthetically pleasing. As well, of course of the existence of other Vulcans…" Spock noticed the deep blush of red rising to Jim's cheeks and let the slightest of smiles touch his eyes. "Your sentiment is, however, appreciated."

Jim glanced away, embarrassed. "Uh…you're welcome. S-so what…uh…what was the most beautiful thing about Vulcan?"

"The sands." Spock answered immediately, without hesitation. "They were a magnificent red, like nothing else. It is a shame the sands of new Vulcan are far more yellow. Future generations will only know the red sands of their home world as a memory."

Jim turned to watch him, sadly, as Spock gazed out into the dark sky. There was so much he wished he could do. He wanted to heal the pain he could feel. He wanted it to be alright. It never could be, though. The only way to heal was to move past, and he'd never been good at that himself. He couldn't help others if he couldn't help himself, let alone open himself up for to the kind of trust he would be asking for.

"Frank was my uncle." Jim whispered, looking away before he could see the surprise in Spock's eyes. "Is. Is my uncle. He's still alive. He…after what happened before…well…shit. I always have trouble knowing were to start."

"You may tell me what ever you are comfortable." Spock whispered. "It does not need to be…logical."

Jim glanced back to see the understanding levied at him, and smiled weakly. "Okay. After…what happened before…my mother needed to be off planet. I think it was her version of therapy. She had us, my brother Sam and I, stay with our uncle, Frank. He didn't know _anything_ about what happened. And I do mean anything. He got frustrated with us easily, constantly yelling. Despite what Bones has got in his head, I never got a chance to try and make friends with him, and I _never_ had a lack of attention from him. He really was always yelling."

Jim sighed, slumping his shoulders a bit and giving Spock a weary look. In return, he could see the slightest touch of sympathy and anger in the other man. Spock was less than pleased to hear about the verbal abuse. That Jim had, at any point, tried to defend that man infuriated him. He felt a touch of relief though, to know that Jim had not behaved with this man as he had with others.

"Sam finally got fed up and decided to run away." Jim's tone got a bit bitter and he looked down to hide the anger in his eyes. "He told me that no _Kirk_ could live in that house. He told me I was no Kirk. Said he'd come back when I proved that either of us could be. So I stole my _dad's_ car, an old classic, drove it right past him and into a quarry, barely jumped out in time."

Spock jolted at the wistful look on Jim's face. It was not what he was expecting. McCoy was right, Jim had a tendency to put himself in deadly situations, only to get out a the last second. He found himself wondering if Jim's decision to provoke him was fueled by the same twisted logic. Had he known someone would interfere before he would be killed, and so chose that method specifically to provoke an emotional reaction from him?

Jim didn't notice the momentary surprise that passed through his features, shrugging carelessly. "I was twelve at the time. Afterward, Frank sat down with me and we talked it out. We both knew I couldn't stay there any more, not like that. He offered to let me go anywhere I wanted, as long as it was supervised. Me and Sam both. Sam chose a boarding school. I…well, that's how I ended up with Garrovick, anyway."

Spock could tell there was something being left out. The tale felt like it were meant to be the middle of a story. He wouldn't press, though. It was clear that Jim was actively choosing not to tell him.

"When I was seven, I was told I would be bonded to T'Pring." Spock met Jim's eyes, acknowledging the surprise he saw there. "I ran away, to participate in my kahs-wan early, without my parent's permission. A kahs-wan is a trial, where a youth must survive for ten days in the wilds of the Vulcan's Forge, it is-"

"The hottest desert in Vulcan. The kids told me they were…displeased, that they couldn't participate in their own." Jim nodded thoughtfully, listening.

"Yes, well…when I returned, I was bonded to T'Pring. My parents were displeased by my attempt to prove myself, but the success was acknowledged. Upon T'Pring's twelfth birthday, we fought. She demanded kal-if-fee, which was not her right until our wedding." Spock paused, about to interrupt when Jim rolled his eyes.

"Kal-if-fee is the combat part of marriage or combat. I get it. I told you the kids taught me things. It's cool, because Vulcan's are being a lot more open about their ceremonies now. Though I certainly got a few glares for even hearing anything about the terms…" Jim smiled, hoping it didn't sound disparaging.

"Indeed." Spock nodded. "Perhaps it would be better to simply let you stop me if you do not understand."

"Don't worry, I will."

"Very well. Rather than subject myself to her presence longer, I…ran away." He noticed the quirk of Jim's lips as he tried not to smile. "A humorous as you find this, it was a foolish decision on my part."

"Sorry." Jim didn't particularly sound like he was.

Spock fixed him with a narrow look momentarily, before very nearly rolling his eyes as he glanced away and then back. "I chose to participate in my Rite of Tal'oth, a four month long trial in the Vulcan's Forge. Once again, it was premature and without the permission of my parents. When I returned, successful, I forcefully broke my bond with T'Pring and rejected her as my mate. My grandmother supported the decision fully."

"Wow. That…uh…that's hard core."

Spock almost smirked. "T'Pring erroneously believes my decision to join Starfleet was similar in nature, due to it occurring rather shortly after the announcement of her choice to be bonded to Stonn."

"But it wasn't." Jim stated it more as a question than anything else.

"It was not. The decision was based upon the elders' treatment of my mother."

"Oh…" Jim trailed off, glancing up at the stars. "I guess we both had…what was the word…abhorrent? Childhoods."

"Indeed." Spock followed Jim's line of sight, gazing up at the stars.

"Okay, now that we've got that awkwardness out of the way…" Jim threw himself sideways, attempting to pin Spock to the ground.

They grappled a moment, ending with Jim once again being held in place under the stronger man. Spock quirked an eyebrow at him, firmly holding his wrists in place.

"Fascinating."

Jim chuckled. "I almost got you that time."

"I admit, I am perplexed." Spock continued to speak, keeping Jim in place. "You have been avoiding contact with me, even in private, ever since the arrival of our guests, and yet now you choose to initiate contact."

Jim flushed, wriggling his wrists in an attempt to free them. "I…well, it isn't like we actually exist here. I _know_ you left the protocol in place. I'll stop, if that's what you want."

Spock stilled, releasing him and furrowing his brow. "I am unsure."

It was his turn to nearly jump out of his skin when he realized what he said. Jim was gaping at him. It was perfectly honest. He didn't know what he wanted. He just hadn't quiet realized that himself. He had pointedly been avoiding the thought of whether he was comfortable with the contact he maintained with Jim. It did not displease him, like it once did, but to say he _wanted_ contact with him…

"Do not concern yourself with it, at present." Spock finally told him. "I do not ask you to modify your behavior, even in the presence of my Vulcan peers."

Jim frowned openly at that. "But I know how stuffy they are, even if you don't mind, it's inappropriate, because you're a Vulcan."

"I am also a human." Spock pointed out. "Vulcans must learn to adapt. If they can not accept that I choose to be closer with you that one normally would, then they are at fault."

Jim grinned in pleasure. "Got it. I hope you realize this means I'm going to pat you on the shoulders again and throw fruit at you."

Spock straightened a bit. "I am not surprised."

Sighing, Jim flopped back down, closing his eyes momentarily. Spock settled himself next to him, well aware that something was sitting between them, unsaid, unrecognizable, but there. Jim was aware of it too, equally baffled by the strange tension just around them, but willing to bet it had to do with their tentative friendship and the awkwardness of revealing their pasts. Intimacies of that nature tended to be awkward. Eventually it would smooth over and they'd be comfortable with each other.

Or, at least, that was what he was hoping.

… .. .

Jim buried his face in his pillow, screaming in frustration. Things had been going so well. They'd managed to fall into a comfortable silence after their awful admissions and enjoyed the view. When he was finally tired, Spock insisted Jim return to his room, as the holodeck was not suitable for sleeping in. Naturally, they 'snuck' back to their rooms. Jim was well aware they had caught the attention of a few crew members that time, but he didn't mind. There was something excitingly pleasant about sneaking around with Spock, like they weren't supposed to be together.

He decided not to focus on that for too long.

Just when they reached their rooms, they were caught. Jim had, all while laughing, been leaning on the wall between their rooms, saying his goodnights. Before Spock could turn to go, Jim insisted a slap on the shoulder. He supposed, looking back on it, he could understand how, from the right angle, it could look like he was going to hug him.

He wasn't. For the record. But that didn't mean that Chapel hadn't thought that was what she was seeing. Which is why he was subsequently glared at, even though Spock looked just as baffled as he did. Chapel helpfully reminded him that it was rude to be unnecessarily physical with Vulcans. Hypocritical, as he'd seen her repeatedly trying to get herself close to Spock over the last few months. But that was Spock's business, not his. So he just rolled his eyes and turned to go. Judging by the scandalized look on Chapel's face, she wasn't expecting Spock to respond by grabbing Jim's wrist and asking her to mind her own business.

"_W-what was that about?" Jim felt like he was slowly becoming a tomato with how much he was blushing over the course of the night._

_Spock stared at him blankly, as if he hadn't been entirely sure of himself when he grabbed him. "I believe I just told you not to adjust your behavior with me based on other's opinions."_

It wasn't like he had forgotten. He had just been ready to leave anyway, so decided it was easier not to argue with Chapel and try to explain to her that Spock had given him permission. Some of the crew still didn't favor him and while most wouldn't say anything to his face, people on every ship talked about their Captain.

"_Sorry. I just didn't feel like starting an argument." Jim shrugged, glancing at his door, and then his wrist, which was still in a vice grip._

"_Very well." Spock answered quickly, retrieving his hand. "I will see you in the morning. Good night."_

And just like that he ran into his room, leaving Jim in the hall, completely confused. Mostly because he was almost entirely sure that Spock was upset, but he had no reason to think that. But Spock _felt_ furious, so he had somehow managed to go and mess up again. Just. Like. Always. Happy bonding moment where they learn something about each other and get along; Going to bed angry. It was too frustrating.

Spock slumped against his door, holding his hands in fists against his pants. Things had been going well. Things were alright. And then Chapel interrupted them, upsetting Jim. Without thinking he had grabbed Jim. And he'd heard it, all at once the feelings, a medley of depression, and that single, awful thought Jim had.

'I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up.'

… … .. . .. … …

**Oh Jim. Your pessimism is just too much. Now enjoy a multitude of language lessons.**

**sa-kai -brother**

**K'hat'n'dlawa-half of [one's] heart and soul**

**Ne Ki'ne-Shield partner**

**kahs-wan -don't make me explain it again…**

**kal-if-fee -fight to the death over the right to mate with a certain girl, or if a girl doesn't want her specific mate…just watch amok time.**

**Rite of Tal'oth -see kahs-wan add twenty days and multiply by four…or something like that. I don't actually know how months work on Vulcan…**


	26. Chapter 26

**Don't own. Sorry it took so long to get up.**

**So, thanks to a request by Merula Aeolus, you'll all be getting an extra update this Thursday. But be warned, I'll need some feedback on that one, or it could delay next Monday's comic, and that would defeat the purpose of a holiday-gift-update.**

… … .. . .. … …

"And then, and then, I took a running leap out the window." Jim cackled, slapping the table in amusement as Sulu nearly choked on his cereal.

"It was three floors up." McCoy said with a note of annoyance. "And he ran straight to the clinic where I was on duty."

"How did you run after a fall like that?" Sulu grinned, coughing between words.

"Practice." Jim responded proudly, in spite of it not being something he should be proud of.

"Vhat did she do aftervords?" Chekov asked excitedly.

"She chased me down!" Jim said with a modicum of amusement. "She didn't jump out of the window, but she apparently ended up at Starfleet Academy looking for me."

"Yikes!" Sulu chuckled.

Jim had been regaling them with memories of his time at the academy, mostly from his first year as he hadn't had much time for shenanigans after starting to take things seriously. It was nice to have a mostly quiet morning. Sure, there were a few sideways glances by personnel that overheard his rambunctious tales, but it was well worth it. Sulu liked his stories and Chekov…well, Chekov liked to hear him talk. He was probably actually a bad influence on him.

He was so busy sharing the he missed Spock entering the cafeteria, looking just a little haggard. Not sleeping was only mildly annoying. Not being able to complete his meditation without his thoughts turning to Jim was…problematic. It was proving troublesome for his barriers and that, in return, provided more for him to think about. A good portion of his night was spent wondering how he would reassure the falsely boisterous captain that his presence was welcome.

Spock approached quietly, going unnoticed by the entire group.

"Jim?" He asked carefully, placing his hand on the blonde's shoulder.

Jim stiffened, whipping his head around to look at him before offering a sheepish smile. "Hey Spock. Did you need something?"

"A moment, when you may spare it." Spock nodded.

"Uh…" Jim glanced at his companions, noting the understanding nods they gave him. "Okay. I've got a few spare right now."

Spock nodded once and turned on his heel, leading him towards the door. Jim glanced back at them a moment, shrugging as he stood. Bones cleared his tray immediately, rolling his eyes and nodding for him to leave. He trotted out after his first officer, rushing to catch up.

Spock didn't stop until they made it to the turbo lift. Jim grimaced as soon as he saw what had, in his head, been officially dubbed the discussion room. Usually that meant that there was going to be a private discussion happening shortly. In all actuality, he was pretty sure the turbo lifts saw more discussions than the briefing rooms. Spock stopped the lift almost immediately, though he had at least put on a show of directing it to the bridge.

"Well?" Jim prompted when he remained silent.

"I wish to apologize for my behavior last night."

Jim blinked at him, clear confusion in his eyes. "Uh…what?"

Spock nearly sighed. "It was inappropriate of me to accost you in such a manner in front of nurse Chapel."

"Wait, that's bothering you?" Jim gave him an incredulous look. "I can't believe that. You weren't…I mean, it's entirely up to you what you do. I wasn't upset about that."

"Why were you upset?" Spock lifted an eyebrow, daring him to deny it.

Jim grimaced, leaning back against the wall. "I…I was frustrated. I don't know. Don't worry about it."

"Jim." Spock's eyes softened, fixing him with a deceptively gentle look. "We must communicate."

Jim flushed, kicking at the wall a little and crossing his arms over his chest. "Okay. So maybe I thought you were going to be upset that I touched you in front of her even though you said it was okay. And maybe I got pissed at myself when I realized I'd doubted you. And maybe I was a little worried that you were upset because I doubted you."

It was Spock's turn to blink in surprise and confusion. "It would appear we have once again miscommunicated. I believed you were upset with me."

Jim sighed, dropping his shoulders. "No. No I wasn't."

Spock forced himself not to squirm, feeling decisively uncomfortable. "Then we are…alright?"

Jim grinned. "Yeah. We're good." And as an after thought. "Hey Spock, is it alright if I assume you aren't upset with me unless you say you are?"

"That would be reasonable." Spock's lips twitched through a smirk. "I will endeavor to alert you when you distress me."

"Just don't choke me." Jim grinned, restarting the lift.

Spock tensed, and Jim immediately scowled. "Oh no you don't. Don't even start that today. I was joking and I don't want you to even think about blaming yourself for _that _again."

"Of course, Jim." Spock nodded half heartedly.

"Good." Jim smiled, slapping his shoulder affectionately.

… .. .

Spock tensed, trying desperately to ignore the snippets of emotion and thoughts he kept receiving from various crew members. They were mostly innocuous, but distracting all the same. Distracting enough that he missed the concerned looks Jim was shooting him. Said Captain approached Uhura right before lunch on the pretense of his 'secret' project, effectively ditching Spock with the aid of his navigator and pilot.

"Am I loosing it or was Spock really tense on the bridge today?" Jim asked as soon as he got her alone.

She scowled. "No. I noticed it too. He was tensing up even more than usual when people brushed into him."

"Alright." Jim sighed. "Keep him distracted at lunch. If he asks, tell him I'm in engineering eating with Scotty."

"And where will you actually be?" Uhura snorted, placing her hands on her hips.

"I'm finding Stonn."

… .. .

"Captain." Stonn said as though he weren't surprised to find Kirk standing outside his room.

"Stonn." Jim nodded to him politely.

Before he could get another word out, Stonn stepped sideways, inviting him in. The quarters weren't uncomfortable, but they were a bit more cramped than the officers' quarters. Jim didn't look around, accepting the seat he was gestured into.

"To what do I owe this visit?"

"I want to talk about Spock." Jim answered immediately, before he could chicken out.

Stonn raised both eyebrows at him, tilting his head ever so slightly. "What do you wish to discuss about him with me?"

"You told him to meditate, right? Well, I want to know what exactly you told him and how he's doing." Jim crossed his arms, stubborn look firmly in place.

"It is not my place to share such private matters with you." Stonn responded easily, as he wasn't bound to listen to a Captain.

Jim scowled. "Okay. Maybe not me, but would you tell my CMO? What ever you told him, I don't think it's working. He was good for a little while, but I think whatever was bothering him that he needed to meditate for is getting worse."

"Do you?" Stonn sounded a bit interested, leaning forward to convey this.

"Yeah. I do. It's his barriers, right? He said he was meditating for his barriers and you're the one who told him to do it, weren't you?"

"I was." Stonn admitted. "You believe his barriers are insufficient?"

"I think he's having problems with them. He said he rebuilt them entirely, but…" Jim scowled, not even sure where he was supposed to be going with this conversation.

Fortunately, Stonn took it from there. "Intriguing. I suspected it would be insufficient."

"Then why did you tell him to do it?" Jim snapped, suddenly feeling tense. "You set him up for his barriers to have problems."

"I did not." Stonn informed him, unoffended by the accusation. "I offered that option as an alternative to what I suggested, with the caveat that it would most likely not succeed."

"Then what did you tell him to do?" Jim scowled, utterly confused.

Stonn considered him a moment. "Tell me, Captain, why are you so interested in this matter? It is Spock's concern alone."

Jim gulped, considering the fact that he could just leave, letting Spock sort out his bag of snakes on his own. "He's my friend."

"You hold no obligation to him in these regards." Stonn informed him as though he had no idea. "You do not have a requirement to assist him."

"I want to help him." Jim knew his voice was soft, tentative.

Stonn regarded him with a touch of amusement. "If I may be frank Captain Kirk, I am not sure you are capable of doing such."

Jim tensed, scowling. "I'll do anything I can."

"Allow me to see." Stonn instructed him, raising his hand. He raised an eyebrow when Jim scooted back, eyes wide.

"I…sorry." Jim gulped, eyeing his hand. "I haven't seen that hand motion on the best of terms."

"Indeed?" Stonn glanced at Jim's meld points interested.

"I…I don't mean…well, there was this…ambassador…right after the uh…Nero incident." Jim coughed awkwardly. "And this one time with Spock."

"You have melded with Spock?" Stonn couldn't stop surprise from coloring the edge of his voice.

Jim found himself squirming. "Well…I kind of provoked him into doing it. He wasn't…er…thinking straight. He didn't do anything wrong though."

"Remarkable." Stonn folded his hands in his lap. "What was your opinion of the occurrence?"

"It was a bit uncomfortable…" Jim admitted with a shrug. "But that was mostly because we were mad at each other."

"And your opinion of Spock's mind?"

"W-what?" Jim stuttered, blushing furiously.

"Humor me, Captain, and a meld may prove unnecessary." Stonn instructed him.

Jim glanced down at the ground, feeling so weird to be admitting this. "It was…nice. I don't know…is that weird? I mean, it felt like I was actually…somewhere. It's weird. Like…his mind is this…place. It makes me think of…a planet. An isolated world, perfect…waiting."

"Waiting?"

"I don't know." Jim laughed awkwardly, a sad tone to the timber. "Like…it's like he has everything he needs, except for…something is missing. Some kind of warm, welcome place. He's a planet with no sun. Pure talent and worth, with no purpose. Cultivated soil without anything to make it thrive. I…I sound like an idiot. What the hell am I saying? I don't know…"

"I believe your description makes perfect sense." Stonn informed him politely. "Everyone has different attributes to their minds. Did you feel welcome in Spock's mind?"

Jim stared at him a moment considering what he was just asked. He had been fighting with Spock. It would feel weird to say he was _welcome_ when he was being forced through a slew of pain and fear. It would be weird to say he was welcome in a place filled with hate directed at him. It would be. So why did he instantly want to say yes? Why did he want to say he felt like he understood more in that moment then he ever had? Why did it feel like he had gotten to see some private thing that was to be cherished?

Why had he started his description by saying it was nice?

"I think so." Jim looked up at him, baffled.

Stonn nodded. "From my own contact with you, I can say you have a very dynamic mind, Captain. It is unsurprising that you found yourself comfortable with the nature of Spock's mind."

"Uh…okay? So now what?"

Stonn glanced sideways, as though he were considering the options he had. "Very well. I will instruct you in how you may assist him. You are to tell no one, however. If he refuses your help, then you must accept this too."

"Of course." Jim nodded eagerly, scooting forward with rapt attention.

"Meditate with him."

Blue eyes blinked, as though they had been expecting the secret to life time happiness and had been told to wear clean socks every morning. "Okay. I must have missed something. What?"

"It would be helpful if you were to meditate with him." Stonn acted like it were the most obvious thing in the world. "It will help his barriers."

"Why?"

"If you are meditating with him, it well help keep him from being distracted. It is often said the best way to learn is by teaching." Stonn replied absently.

"Wait…if that was what you told him before, why didn't he meditate with me?"

"He was under the impression that you would feel obligated to assist him." Stonn pointed out without humor.

Jim sighed. "So…what? I can't tell him I spoke with you. Do I just…ask him to teach me how to meditate? Because that totally wouldn't seem suspicious at all."

The present Vulcan was quite aware of the sarcasm in his last statement, and chose to ignore it. "Do you wish to meditate with him?"

"Yeah…well, I mean, I've thought about it…a little. It looks so…peaceful. I guess I've always been a little interested in it." Jim squirmed, suddenly wishing he hadn't decided to bother Stonn about this.

"Then tell him as much."

"I have to get back to work." Jim inform him, before he could be grilled more about his personal life.

He was feeling highly uncomfortable. Stonn allowed him to leave, intrigued by his behavior. A moment later, T'Pring entered the room, looking mildly interested.

"You were not entirely honest with him." She murmured thoughtfully, offering her hand in a kiss.

Stonn pressed his fingers to hers, mildly amused. "Indeed. It would appear they are unaware of their connection."

"And you encourage them to foster it without their knowledge or consent." She wasn't disparaging, just stating the situation. "It could go wrong."

"I do not suspect it will. You have glimpsed into his mind, have you not?"

"I have." She admitted. "They are suited for each other."

"I was truthful in my statement." Stonn reminded her. "It will help his barriers to meditate with him."

"In part. It will also do him no favors in shielding himself from the Captain."

"No. It will not."

… .. .

Jim was back on the bridge before the rest of his crew. Uhura gave him a questing look when she returned and he smiled. She nodded accepting that as he had some idea of what he was doing. Spock was already at his station, incredibly tense. Jim grimaced sympathetically and opted to run interference as best he could for the rest of their shift. It was easier said than done with the advent of paperwork in accompaniment to Spock's inherent popularity with the science personnel.

About the seventh time into the second half of their shift that a science mook snuck up on Spock and accosted him with questions about their work, Jim blew up.

"Learn to do your damn job!" Jim snapped, earning the hushed stares of the crew.

The young ensign looked ready to cry, and it was to everyone's surprise that Spock came to his defense. "It is my requirement to instruct him, Captain. It would appear I have been negligent in remembering that our crew consists of many students who have not completed their entire course loads."

Jim gulped, shaking his head. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm just on edge."

"Captain?" Sulu asked quietly.

"I can't shake this feeling." Jim sighed rubbing at his temple. "It's the same one I had… Don't worry about it. I'm being anxious for no reason."

He was. Yeah, he had that same gut feeling that something was going to happen, but not yet. He _knew_ he had time, so that didn't make any sense. It didn't make sense that he felt like his anxiety was being multiplied tenfold. Like he was picking up on all of the crew's haggard nerves and internalizing them. If anyone should be frayed from the tension of the crew, it should be Spock.

"Captain." Spock murmured thoughtfully, having moved from his seat to stand behind him. "Perhaps you should retire for the night."

"No." Jim groaned, rubbing his forehead. "I just need to calm down. Get a hold of myself."

And suddenly it clicked. He glanced sharply up at Spock, who was still watching him closely from a distance. He made the split second decision to go with it and opened his mouth before he could remember he was on the bridge.

"Could you teach me to meditate?"

And the pressure drop.

Spock blinked owlishly at him, eyes a near black. "I do not think that-"

"Please." Jim added quickly. "Spock, please. Help me."

It was a rare moment of humanity and, dare he say it, weakness. A second too late, he remembered his crew was watching him like he'd grown a second head. He flushed, embarrassed like he wasn't used to feeling in front of so many people. Spock's ears were a fair shade of green, pupils wide in his suddenly, unfathomably pale brown eyes. It was a color he didn't recognize at all.

"Very well, Captain. I will assist you at the end of our shift."

The remainder of which was exceptionally awkward.

They kept glancing at each other, just missing each other's eyes most times, occasionally catching each other and looking away as quickly as possible. The rest of the bridge crew kept their eyes fixed on their stations. Apparently the poor ensign ran back to the science labs and told _everyone_ what happened. Especially since McCoy managed to make his way to the bridge and have a hushed conversation with Uhura, well aware of the confused, questioning look Jim was giving him.

Once he had confirmed that yes, what he'd been told happened had in fact happened, he left the bridge. He left Uhura with instructions to come down later and deal with Chapel, who was in near hysterics. At the end of her shift, she announced her intent to head to Sickbay and left as quickly as possible.

Jim felt decidedly awkward as they headed to Spock's room in complete silence. When the door shut behind them, he shuffled in place. Spock retrieved his incense and candles, lighting them carefully. When he finished, having stalled as long as he could, he turned to Jim. He was still standing there, sheepishly looking down at his feet like a student that had entered his office for reprimand. While not particularly suiting to Jim, it was intriguingly appealing. He chose not to think on that strange occurrence.

"So how do we do this?" Jim murmured, blue eyes grey with fear.

Spock reached his hand out to him immediately. "I will assist you."

Jim gulped, setting his hand in the other man's and momentarily relishing the warmth that seeped in at the contact. Spock lead him down to the ground, sliding into an appropriate stance. Jim settled in less easily, mimicking him as best he could.

Spock didn't attempt to sort the medley of confused, stressed thoughts that pressed at him, offering his other hand.

Jim accepted it without question, blushing at the brush of their palms together. "Uh…this is a bit more intimate than I though it would be."

"Indeed." Spock whispered, hands humming at the cool contact.

He found himself wanting to, rather illogically, lace their fingers together and relish the nearly open push of the deep mind just a touch away. It was embarrassing, confusing, and disarming, all at once.

"S-so…do I just focus on my breathing or my thoughts or something?"

"Calm yourself." Spock instructed. "Breath deeply. Close your eyes and separate your thoughts from your emotions. I will help you."

Carefully, Spock lead him into meditation, the faintest brush against his mind, helping him separate his thoughts and focus. Jim wasn't a telepath, though, and Spock couldn't just show him how it was done. All he could do was whisper words of help when needed and pick up on the mounting frustration Jim felt. He hadn't meant to catch hold of one particularly clear thought, but did.

Spock sprang to his feet, earning a very confused look from Jim. "You spoke with Stonn."

Jim swore, standing quickly in spite of the needling sensation in his legs. "Wait, Spock. I can explain."

"I believe I understand quite well what you have done." His tone was harsh, a stinging slap across Jim's face. "You violated my privacy and attempted to engage me in something you know nothing about."

"Damn it Spock!" Jim snapped, hands fisted at his side. "I am so tired of this push, push, push deal we've got going on! I want to help you so I'm going to! And maybe I wouldn't have no idea what I'm doing if you'd just tell me!"

"It is not your place-"

"Shut up!" Jim shouted." "Shut up. Shut up. Shut up! I don't want to hear it!"

"You are behaving like a child!" Spock growled.

"I'm not the one who won't accept help!"

"You have no obligation to assist me!"

"I'm not doing it out of obligation! I want to help!"

"I do not required your aid!"

"What is so wrong with me that you don't want my help?"

They both froze, staring silently at each other. He'd said it. He'd finally asked. Spock wasn't touching him, didn't have to touch him, to feel the prevalent sense of regret, pain and helplessness shining clearly. Sometimes he wondered if he had minor empathic abilities as he slowly reached out to Jim. His blue eyes were shut tight, fatigue etched around his eyes, an open feeling of sorrow surrounding him. Spock set his hand on his shoulder, softly.

"I do not wish to burden you, Jim." He whispered gently, hoping to impress upon him how important he found this.

"I want to help. I want to be able to help. Please, let me." Jim opened his eyes, looking resigned that he was to be told to leave.

Spock took a deeper breath than strictly necessary, pushing aside the illogical want to keep Jim from this. He was being offered help. Help he truly needed. If his damn _pride_ would just let him accept it. He nodded, once, and pulled Jim down to the ground with him, far closer than before.

"I will accept your help, if I can." He admitted quietly. "You do not need to meditate yourself. Simply…remain."

"I can do that." Jim insisted, nodding vigorously.

Spock almost smiled before allowing himself to focus. Jim was there, still light and darkness, a tempest on a sunny day just below his fingertips. Spock focused on it, zeroed in on the warmth, the desire to stay welling up in him, holding it. He didn't know how to begin analyzing it, so he didn't. He focused on his walls, the constant feeling of just barely remaining in contact with Jim, no matter how he built them.

When he opened his eyes 3.26 hours later, Jim was still there, watching him, a far off look in his eyes.

"Hey…" He murmured, blue eyes focusing after a series of rapid blinks.

"Hello." Spock replied, earning a wicked little grin at the humor of it.

"So…did I help?"

"I believe so, yes." Spock inclined his head to him, wondering if it really did do anything for his barriers.

"That's good." Jim said absentmindedly. "My thoughts weren't too distracting?"

"To the contrary. I rarely received a fully decipherable thought." Spock informed him, retrieving his hands. "I am, however interested to know more about this special brief you seem to continuously be turning your thoughts to."

Jim beamed at him. "No can do. It's a secret."

"I see."

"Let me keep helping and I might just share." Jim joked, though his eyes still asked if he would be allowed to stay.

"You did not find the experience…unfulfilling?" Spock's lips twitched through a frown, doubt etched into his eyes.

"No…" Jim glanced away. "I…find it quite interesting."

"…Very well." Spock almost sighed. "I will accept your aid."

"Yes!" Jim cheered, leaping to his feet. "Alright! So we're going to be adding this to our routine, right?"

"Yes." Spock stood, giving him a mildly amused look. "I would suggest dinner first, though."

Jim flushed as his stomach growled, laughing a little. "Heh, so dinner and meditation. Way better than chess, right?"

"Meditation is not a game, Jim." Spock informed him with no real chiding to his voice.

"I know." Jim admitted. "And I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to."

Spock froze from where he had been selecting food for them, turning to stare at him. "I would not presume there was anything you do not share with Doctor McCoy."

"He doesn't know everything about me!" Jim insisted immediately. "And I don't share other people's business."

"While that is commendable, I imagine the entire ship is aware that you came to me to meditate." Spock informed him, busing himself with their dinner so he wouldn't feel quite like he was being awkwardly idle.

Jim coughed uncomfortably. "Uh…yeah. Sorry about that. But no one has to know it's more than a one time thing. I mean, not that I'd want to lie about it or anything, but there's no reason to go around telling everyone we're meditating together…or whatever it is we're doing."

"Indeed." Spock agreed with him, setting their food down. "I would appreciate discretion, then."

… .. .

"Do you have any idea what you're getting yourself into?"

Jim blinked up at his best friend, setting down his fork. "Good morning to you too, Bones."

McCoy snarled, sitting down across from him. "I'm not joking, Jim. Meditating with him?"

"I know what I'm doing." Jim defended himself immediately, rolling his eyes.

"Oh I have no doubt about that. I just want to know if you have any idea what you're getting into."

"There's a difference?"

"And that answers that." McCoy snorted, shaking his head. "Okay. Fine. I won't asks if this is continuing, or what's going on, or anything. So please, don't share."

"I'm using discretion." Jim said indignantly. "I promised not to talk about it. Not even with you."

"Now there's an idea."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

McCoy looked him over a minute, thinking it over. Jim was a lot happier than he'd seen him in a long time. He looked rested, fit and a healthy color. Loath as he was to admit it, something was going right. This whole spending time with Spock thing was going well. Secretly, he knew why, but he was reluctant to admit that idea. Instead, he focused on the fact that it meant less stress for Jim. Less stress and more facing his issues. And he couldn't argue with results like that.

"I just don't want to hear about it." He replied absentmindedly.

Jim frowned, not upset, but concerned. Bones seemed a bit out of it to him lately. It was like every time they talked recently, he had something on his mind. He didn't want to pry, but if there was something bothering him, he didn't want it to interfere with his work. If he were distracted at the wrong time, then he could be seriously hurt.

"Bones…you'd tell me if something was wrong, right?" Jim asked quietly, fixing serious blue eyes on him.

McCoy froze, eyes going a little wide. "Of course I would, Jim. Where is this coming from?"

"I…I don't know. I guess I just wanted to makes sure. You know?" Jim hurried back to his meal, only feeling a little better.

"I…guess?" McCoy frowned, convinced he was missing something. "Would you?"

"Of course." Jim answered immediately. "Did you doubt me?"

"No!" McCoy paused, tilting his head to the side. "Well, actually, yeah. I do. But you've had a track record of that."

"Oh great." Jim rolled his eyes, sarcasm dripping from his words. "Thanks."

… … .. . .. … …

**Uh…yeah.** **Keep your stories to yourself , Jim.**


	27. Chapter 27

**Don't own.**

**Here's your extra update. Enjoy your holiday or lack there of.**

… … .. . .. … …

It had been a week and a half with little in the way of incidents when things started to happen. Jim had been meditating every night with Spock and, while there were no further huge revelations, they were steadily becoming more comfortable with each other. Neither of them had seen hide nor hare of T'Pring and Stonn, and they weren't particularly upset by that fact. Momentary weirdness aside, Jim and McCoy were getting along as usual.

So the mood was generally good on the ship.

Which is why it was such a surprise for the captain to storm onto the bridge in complete rage.

"Spock. Briefing room. Now." Jim snapped, positively fuming.

Spock quirked his eyebrow at him, but said nothing, standing to comply. Jim took two deep, unfulfilling breaths in a vain attempt to calm himself, before turning on his heel and leaving. In the briefing room, Spock watched Jim pace back an forth in anger a moment before keying something into the computer. A video message popped up immediately on the large screen and Jim told it to play.

A rather tense looking Sarek was the perpetrator of the message. "Captain Kirk, I trust you are doing well? I did not contact you for pleasantries, though. I must request you take further measures to reach the colony swiftly."

Jim hit the pause, taking in the minor shock to Spock system with a nod. "I just got this. I thought you needed to see it, as First Officer and as a Vulcan. I don't know what you want to do with it, but if you think it should be shared with the scientists, I'll trust your judgment."

Spock nodded once, rather mutely, and sat down to continue watching the message.

"Our scientists have discovered a strain of disease affecting the crops currently sustaining the colony. The technology necessary to create a strain resistant is currently on the Enterprise. With use of the non-diseased crop and replicator technology, we have some time until it becomes pertinent. It is important that you arrive quickly, however, so that we may begin rectifying this immediately." Sarek nodded once, as though he were somehow conveying he understood Jim was an idiot, but he should be able to manage that. "I will see you swiftly. Live long and prosper, Captain Kirk."

The video ended abruptly in perfect time with Jim slamming his palm down on the table. Spock glanced at him in surprise.

"It would seem it is necessary for us to inform the crew. I am unsure how the scientists onboard may be of assistance, as they have no way of knowing about the strain of disease."

Jim curled his hands into fists, glowering at nothing in particular. "He sent along a detailed report. Tell me, Spock, he didn't send this information to Starfleet, so how important is it?"

Spock blinked, noting the rather bitter tone in his voice. "I do not presume he would miscalculate the urgency of the matter. If he did not see fit to notify Starfleet of this development, he and the elders must have decided it was not critical."

"He's sending mixed messages! 'Oh it isn't important, but get your ass over here now.'" Jim mimed Sarek's speaking with a perfect deadpan, earning an eyebrow raise. "I don't like being yanked around. He's your dad. The way he was talking, are we discussing a basic nuisance that bothers some of the crops or are we talking total ecological meltdown?"

Spock stood, straightening his uniform out. "I would need to survey the report."

Jim nodded in acquiescence and immediately pulled it up. Spock scanned over it quickly, scrolling through the pages with little pause. A small frown flitted over his features and he turned to his captain with a look of mildly annoyance.

"My familiarity with botany is insufficient to fully calculate the effects of this. I would request Lieutenant Sulu's aid."

"Gimme a sec." Jim was already headed out the door.

He poked his head onto the bridge, earning a few mildly interested looks. "Uhura, take the Conn. Sulu with me."

And suddenly the bridge was a storm. Concerns and questions were tossed back and forth fitfully. Sulu raced after Jim, who'd already headed out without a spare thought for his crew. Uhura moved to the command chair, looking for the life of her like she wanted to follow. The Captain hadn't called for her though, so she had work to do.

Sulu barely caught the flash of gold turning into the briefing room as he exited the bridge, and trotted quickly after him. Inside, he got an eyeful of the information on the screen.

"What's happening?"

"Just need your expertise on something." Jim informed him, waving noncommittally to Spock.

Spock inclined his head in agreement. "We are attempting to identify this strain of disease affecting crops."

Sulu jumped to it immediately, pouring over the data. "I think this is familiar, but I'm not sure why. I've never actually seen anything like it, but…I _know_ I've heard something. I just can't place it."

"Yeah, but how dangerous is it?" Jim snapped, impatient.

Spock and Sulu exchanged a glance, before fixing him with silent stares. Jim ignored them, tapping his hands impatiently on the desk as he stared up at the report. He looked less angry now and more anxious. Sulu glanced nervously back over the data, shaking his head.

"Well, it's dangerous, but I don't know how much. It's a desert disease, similar to a lot of parasitic fungi or mold that attack colonies on warmer planets. It may spread through the crops if not treated, but I don't know how fast."

"How do you treat it?"

Sulu frowned glancing at Spock to ensure he should continue. "A chemical treatment should be able to do it, but a hardier disease would require a specially designed strain of crop. With the technology currently on New Vulcan, it may be a bit difficult though."

Jim glanced at him, not the least bit surprised he figured out where the problem was. "Fine. Take this report down to the scientists and help them figure it out. I want to know what this is, what it can do, and how we get rid of it."

Sulu shifted awkwardly. "Alright."

"Captain." Spock interjected. "I do not believe it is necessary to pull Lieutenant Sulu from his post. The Vulcan botanists and ecologists on board are more than capable of handling the eradication of a crop disease."

"Fine." Jim snapped. "But I want hourly updates on their progress. Make sure your people get that to me."

"Captain…" Sulu furrowed his brow. "Is everything alright?"

"No, everything is not alright. Get back to your position, I'll be on the bridge in a couple minutes." The blond captain crossed his arms over his chest, avoiding eye contact.

Sulu nodded quickly, more confused than ever. Spock raised a dark brow at Jim as soon as the pilot left, silently asking for him to share what was wrong. Jim had closed his eyes and was taking deep breaths, so he missed it.

"Your behavior is erratic and disconcerting, Jim. What is troubling you?" Spock asked tentatively.

Jim glanced up at him, blue eyes flecked with near-white silver. "Nothing."

"You are lying."

"Stop reading my emotions."

"A human would have difficulty doing so, Captain. I am not touching you." Spock reminded, earning a scathing look.

"It's nothing. I'm just tense." He lied, blatantly.

"Jim." Spock fixed him with a piercing look, waiting for him to realize he wouldn't back down.

"Later." He pleaded, giving him a tired look.

"Very well. I will refrain from questioning you further at this juncture." Spock nodded once, then turned to go.

"Spock?" Jim called after him, offering a weak smile when their eyes met. "Thank you."

"I do not know for what you are thanking me, Captain." Spock admitted.

"For understanding."

… .. .

"Captain, there's a report from the science department for you." Rand handed a PADD over his shoulder when he looked up from his late lunch.

Spock set his own meal aside to look at him in interest, waiting to see what had been found. The preceding reports had nothing particularly useful in them. McCoy scowled at the PADD from his own meal, previously unaware there was any situation. Only the bridge crew(via Sulu) and the science department had been let on and, as they were quite busy digging through the provided information, no rumors had spread. Jim paled considerably as he read, hands shaking in their white knuckled grip on the PADD.

"Jim?" McCoy shifted, ready for anything.

A string of rather colorful curses erupted from his mouth, sending a wave of shock through the entire canteen. McCoy snatched the PADD from Jim as he made to slam it down, already to his feet.

"Rand, clear that." He gesture to his tray, racing out of the room.

Spock watched him go with mild concern, glancing back at McCoy once he was out of site. He looked like a green tomato. Spock jolted at the words he uttered, a deal more flavorful than Kirks. Not only was his suggestion for the writer of PADD physically impossible for a humanoid, but also illegal on all but three Federation planets. A little green around the ears, Spock watched him race off, accepting the PADD that was thrown to him with only a modicum of interest.

He looked down at it for answers, and found nothing to deserve the reaction given. The report stated that the fungi had been identified as a rather exotic specimen. One other known outbreak was recorded. In that circumstance it had taken little over a month to devastate the crops. That was more than ample time to deal with it.

The note mentioning the similar occurrence was dutifully flagged. The only information provided was the name of the colony. Tarsus IV. Apparently, according to an irate note by one scientist, they were unable to access more than the sample readings to find out how it had been dealt with due to clearance issues.

With a minute frown, he handed the PADD back to Rand. "Curious. There appears to be no cause for their alarm."

"Uh huh." Rand said skeptically, still a little put off by the verbal assault. "I'm going to go tell the scientists that."

She quickly cleared the two's trays and, when she saw the direction he was looking, took Spock's as well. He thanked her quickly and headed out to find Kirk. As one turbo lift was shown to be stalled in its ascent to the bridge, he rightly assumed Jim and McCoy were speaking and took another lift to wait for them there.

… .. .

"Jim don't you walk away from me!" McCoy hollered in alarm, racing to get to the turbo lift before Jim shut himself away.

"Don't worry about it, Bones." Jim said icily, attempting to shut the doors before a long arm snaked between and forced them back open.

"You didn't tell me about that." McCoy hissed, narrowing his eyes. "Of all the things, you didn't tell me there was a fungus on New Vulcan destroying the crops."

Jim yanked him in and shut the door, before people could over hear. "It wasn't important. It _isn't_ important. They have plenty of time before it becomes a problem. And they aren't…they aren't idiots."

"Jim. When you told me about Tarsus in the academy I was struck. I understood a lot more about you then than I ever had. And you know what? I can't believe you would even think for a second that it wouldn't come out what was happening. How little faith do you have in me?"

"That isn't it Bones. I didn't want you to do this!"

"What is 'this' exactly?"

"Cornering me!" Jim cried in frustration. "I knew you'd want to sit down and relive that whole experience but this isn't the academy. I'm not on a bender because some professor said Kodos wasn't entirely wrong without knowing even half the facts and because I disagreed with him I was forced on academic probation for a week. This isn't me explaining the psychology of something to you in a moment where I shared something only nine other people know. We've been over this. There's nothing left _to_ share."

"I'm not trying to make you relive anything, Jim." Bones scolded, tone hot with anger. "But these _are_ Vulcans we're talking about. Vulcans, Jim. Not humans, and certainly not Kodos. And the only reason there isn't more to share is because you specifically requested I be given clearance to that shitstorm as your doctor."

"What do you want from me?" Jim snapped.

"To admit you're human and that it still gets to you."

"Of course it gets to me! I don't cry myself to sleep over it though. And the only thing I can do to keep it from happening again is to be there! To get there and actually do something. I couldn't stop Tarsus IV and I couldn't stop the destruction of Vulcan and I'll be damned if I'm going to let my two greatest failures compound to get me again!"

Jim's voice had risen to a tremulous shout by the end of his rant. He glowered at McCoy, panting heavily with poorly contained anger. Gently, the southern doctor reached out and patted his shoulder. Jim slumped heavily against him, finally spent. It earned him a soft huff.

"Done now?"

"Yes."

"Alright. You do realize you're going to have to explain to that Vulcan of yours, right?"

Jim flushed lightly at the terminology, but didn't bring his head up so McCoy could see it. "I already promised to tell him."

"Hmm." McCoy hummed in agreement, restarting the lift and carding his fingers through Jim's hair in a paternal gesture of understanding.

When the door slid open, he was only mildly surprised to see a very stiff Vulcan waiting for them. He watched the man's eyes widen a bit as Jim pulled back and straightened his hair, only to school it back to neutral as soon as said blond turned to spot him.

"Jim." Spock didn't use a questioning tone, simply informing him that he was there.

"Later, Spock. I promise." Jim waved him down, headed straight for the bridge.

McCoy shrugged at the bemused Vulcan and followed, knowing full well he would trail after. Jim was first on the bridge, obviously, and immediately looked his crew over. They'd follow him if he asked. Sulu had glanced up from his station to spot him, and frowned, noting the way McCoy hung close to him and Spock simply observed.

"Captain?" His greeting earned a few mild glances towards the command team.

"Sulu, progress to max warp."

A collective look of horror spread over everyone's face. Uhura and Chekov both jumped to raise alarms.

"Belay that." Jim told them. "No klaxons. No alerts. We're just speeding up our time table."

"Captain, Starfleet isn't going to approve this." Sulu said with a tone of urgency.

"I will deal with Starfleet." Spock said quickly, earning a surprised glance from Jim. "I am better versed in politics, Captain, and am more likely to succeed."

"Thank you." He offered a weak smile.

"Keptin, iz hurrying being because of the crop failurez on Neuv Wulcan?" Chekov settled back into his seat, still worried.

"Yeah. Don't worry. They've got time. I just want to make absolutely sure they have time to spare." Jim managed a charming grin, feeling a little more confident.

"What should I tell Starfleet?" Uhura glanced between her commanders.

"I will have a report ready for them in 0.453 hours." Spock informed her easily.

"Should I be meking announcement to ship, Keptin?" Chekov asked quickly, already calculating the new arrival time.

"Let them know we'll be arriving in…"

"Tvou and half days, Keptin."

"In two and a half days." Jim nodded. "Don't worry them with the details."

"Yes sir."

"Uh…Captain Kirk?" Sulu asked tentatively. "Has the science department figured anything out?"

"The identified the strain, but they don't know how to fix it yet." Jim nodded.

"What…ah, that is, do you think I could get a look at it?" Sulu coughed, trying to be casual.

Jim sighed. "Yeah. Okay. When your shift is over."

"Yes sir."

"Alright Bones. You don't have to stalk around up here. Get back to Sickbay." Jim pushed him back towards the door. "I have work to do."

"Fine, but we're doing dinner."

"It's a date." He grin mischievously, ignoring the horrified looks McCoy shot him.

"No, because Spock 's coming with us." McCoy growled, eyes narrowed with his victory.

Spock shot him a look, both eyebrows raised. Jim stuck his tongue out and pushed him from the room. Turning back around, he settled his hands on his hips and sighed.

"Right. Work. Spock, what do you need from me?"

There were a few snickers in spite of the uneasy feel to the air. "You may return to your paperwork. I will simply require your signature when I have finished my report."

"Alright. I trust you." Jim sat down, then froze.

Spock was watching him like he'd just admitted to having Klingon ancestors. And he knew exactly why. For all that it was such an innocent statement, hell they were talking about _paperwork_, it was the first time he'd actually said it. Sure, it was a given in a few situations. And he'd asked for his trust before. But this was the first time he'd actually told the other man that he trusted him. The rest of the crew looked somewhere between terrified and proud enough to celebrate.

It actually made him feel a little ashamed.

But he caught the subtle dancing emotions in Spock's eyes; curiosity, amusement, gratitude, and something more he wasn't sure about, all cast in his direction. Involuntarily, his lips twitched up and he found himself sporting a full, toothy, _real_ grin.

Spock inclined his head, turning down his eyes as he did before he turned to his work.

… .. .

"Captain. The Admiralty is contacting us through emergency channels." Uhura swiveled in her seat, only a few hours after the report was sent.

"I'll take it here." Jim told her confidently.

Spock immediately took a position at his side. Jim didn't take his eyes from the view screen, though he relaxed ever so slightly when he took up the spot. Sulu and Chekov put on their best business faces and, with no further hesitation, Uhura patched the communication through. It was Fitzpatrick. He was really hoping it would be a different admiral to contact them.

"I don't know what you're playing at, but I'll be damned if you'll just get away with making these kinds of decisions on your own."

"Actually, you will find I concurred with his decision." Spock interrupted.

Jim nearly laughed, because Spock always knew just when to interrupt without being completely unprofessional. He didn't, because he was too busy regarding Fitzpatrick with a blank, stern look that belied his obvious distaste for the encounter. Fitzpatrick twitched with anger.

"Regardless of _your_ support, Commander Spock, Starfleet should have been contacted before you decided to travel at max warp."

"You received the report, our logic was sound." Jim dare to smirk. "I'm sure of that."

"You said there was at least a month before the entirety of the crops were damaged."

"No. We said that, based on the previous incident, presuming there were no other complications, such as the ones the scientists we are currently bringing to the planet have been researching to deal with, it would take around a month to completely destroy the crop. Assuming we continued at the pace we _were_ traveling, and no other problems sprang up, almost a third of their crops would be unusable by the time we got there. That would be a devastating hit on their stores while trying to work out the rest of the problems." Blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly in challenge.

"You mentioned a previous incident, but you didn't say just what that incident was."

"Didn't I?" Jim tilted his head sideways. "I'm sure I included the file tag."

"The tag listed just that there was another sample. It didn't say where it was gotten from."

"Ah. Don't worry too much about it." Jim said flippantly. "The important part is that we're working on it."

"Captain Kirk, I'm ordering you to tell me where the previous incident occurred." Fitzpatrick growled, his tone filled by authority.

Jim tensed up, clenching his hands around the arm rests of his chair. "I'm not sure of the relevance, sir."

"I'm not asking you to humor me, Captain. I'm ordering you answer my question."

"Yes, sir." Jim gritted out between his teeth. "The previous sample was acquired from Tarsus IV."

Everyone twitched at that name, all recognizing it to some degree. While the majority of the information was classified, it would have been impossible for some of his deeds not to get out. Still, no one on the bridge was entirely sure why that made Jim tense up so much. Fitzpatrick, however, furrowed his brow immediately, a look coming over his face.

"What…isn't that…"

"Yes, sir." Jim responded immediately. "I highly doubt sabotage though."

"There was no proof of sabotage on Tarsus IV." Fitzpatrick reminded absently. "Are you going to be able to handle this mission?"

"I'm delivering things." Jim replied flatly, a little insulted. "Not dealing with a maniac. I think I can handle that."

"Are you sure it won't-"

"I know I look like a kid to you, but I'm not." He nearly snapped, barely keeping his voice under control. "Even if this were related, which it isn't, I am more than qualified, more than capable of handling it."

"Not if there is reason to believe you're emotionally compromised."

"I handled Nero, didn't I? I wasn't compromised then." He flicked his eyes back, silently wishing he didn't have to mention that around Spock.

"Of all people Kirk you should know-"

"With all due respect, Admiral. Shut up. Even if we pretended that my entire crew had clearance for this discussion, which they don't, it isn't relevant." Jim snorted at him, annoyance showing through. "And of all the arguments to use, that one? Ask my first officer how that kind of argument works on me."

Spock, blinked down at Jim in surprise, remembering the hearing quite vividly. Fitzpatrick looked stunned, gawking a moment. His entire crew valiantly refrained from shuffling awkwardly, consenting to wait until it was over to ask their questions. Confident that he had the upper hand at the moment, Jim continued immediately.

"Now, I understand where you're coming from. It would look bad if it seemed we just decided to go ahead and ignore the admirals. More over, if we're seen rushing to Vulcan, it could seem like there was an emergency. If you're willing to listen, my First has some ideas on that."

Spock took over immediately, before he could protest. "It is pertinent we deliver the necessary equipment and provide any aid necessary as soon as possible. For political reasons, it might be relevant for the Enterprise's next mission to be a patrol of Federation boarders on our way to our explorative mission."

Fitzpatrick didn't swear, but he looked like something foul had been shoved down his throat. "Fine. Once your aid has been rendered _sufficiently_ you'll travel at top speed to our borders and commence a basic patrol rout on your way out of the system."

"I'm so glad we've come to an agreement on that." Jim clapped his hands enthusiastically. "Is there anything else you need, Sir?"

"No." The transmission was cut immediately after.

Jim laughed. "Well that went better than I thought."

"Kirk…what was he talking about?" Uhura asked softly, concern in her voice.

"I had friends on Tarsus." He answered after what seemed like forever.

The crew fell silent, understanding. Spock couldn't tear his eyes away though, intrinsically aware that Jim was telling the bare minimum that he could to refrain from sharing with the crew. Jim settled back stuffily, crossing his arms and scowling.

"No other questions?"

"No, Captain." Sulu answered, avoiding his eyes.

"Good. Shifts over in a couple hours. Update your reliefs on any further details you think are necessary at shift change." Kirk found the PADD he had discarded for the duration of the call and returned to his work, effectively cutting himself off from the rest of his crew.

Slowly, Spock returned to his seat, carefully considering Kirk's actions, what he knew of Tarsus IV, and the new revelation that, apparently, Kirk had access to the entire file on Tarsus IV and Kodos.

He was not liking the conclusion he came too.

… .. .

As soon as shift ended, Jim jerked his head for Spock to follow him and made his way to Sickbay. McCoy was waiting for them at the door.

"I heard about Fitzpatrick."

"How?" Jim growled. "I didn't even know anyone left the bridge after."

"I think it was a yeoman." McCoy admitted. "Rumor has it this may be a deliberate attack on the Vulcan colony. Now tell me, Jim, where'd they get that idea?"

"I specifically said I didn't think it was." He said defensively. "No where the hell are we eating because I don't want to sit in the mess hall."

"I'll get the food." McCoy rolled his eyes. "Go set up a picnic table in the holodeck."

"Oh God." Jim laughed. "You know I love you, right?"

"Don't say that. Someone will hear you and might actually think you mean it." McCoy grumbled.

"The definition of the term love is fairly open ended, Doctor." Spock interjected. "There are numerous distinct types within human history alone. Several of which correlate to the idea of friendship."

"And what makes you think I give a damn?" McCoy snorted, rolling his eyes at Jim. "Go. Table. Now. I promise Vegan food for the grass-muncher and something full of protein for you."

Spock opened his mouth to respond, and was promptly cut off by Jim. "We're going."

Before he could levy further protest, Jim was leading him out the door. Deigning to defer to Jim's wishes, he followed silently as they made their way to the holodeck. It seemed the room was getting more and more use lately simply by virtue of being somewhere private. As soon as they entered, Jim sat down against the cool wall, taking a deep breath.

"Are you unwell?"

"No. Just…it's a lot. I'll explain tonight, before we meditate."

"Before?"

"I don't want to get distracted and end up having thoughts about it when you don't know the story. It would just worry you." Jim gave him a look just daring him to deny the fact that it would cause such an emotion.

Spock wisely chose to ignore the comment. "What are the requirements of a picnic table?"

Jim bolted up straight. "You've never had a picnic?"

"I have had picnics, with my mother, though she chose to forgo any surface that could be classified as a table in favor of arranging our meal, and ourselves, on a checkered cloth.

"Oh thank god." Jim groaned, standing. "I was afraid I was going to have to go over your entire childhood and teach you how earth kids do it."

"Not only am I not a child, but I was not raised on Earth. It would be presumptuous to assume I was raised in a similar manner and preposterous to treat me as a child."

Jim chuckled. "From a strictly educational standpoint, maybe, but if I wanted to teach you human culture, especially that of a child, I'd do much better to do so in the mindset of someone teaching that culture to a child."

"An interesting argument." Spock said without inflection, making his words even flatter than usual.

Jim grinned at him, heading to the console. "Blame M'Benga. He used the same argument on my doctor to get me in a child's class."

"That wasn't why I agreed." McCoy announced his sudden presence in the room with an exasperated sigh. "I thought I asked you to set up."

"I am!" Jim protested. "But there are at least two dozen 'picnic' settings in here."

"Oh for Pete's sake!" The CMO cried in exasperation. "Just pick one."

"Fine." Jim grumbled, throwing an amused look Spock's way.

The room around them materialized into a secluded picnic site, trees framing one side of the table, and a bluff gracing the wide expanse of a lake on the other side. The sun was setting over the water, painted reds, oranges, purples and greens reflecting dazzlingly in it. Spock watched the way the two men gazed out at it, softened expressions momentarily visible. It was aesthetically pleasing and he could understand the strange pull the wayward sun held. Though lacking in large bodies of water, the sunsets over the desert planes of Vulcan were bright, numerous colors due to the distortion of light through the sand filled air.

"I brought you a couple hotdogs and some chips." McCoy said conversationally as he began setting out the food. "Do me a favor and chew when you eat them."

"I chew." Jim protested. "Most of the time."

"Would you not be incapable of properly swallowing and digesting your food if you did not?" Spock asked incredulously.

"The swallowing isn't a problem." McCoy replied teasingly.

Jim flushed a bright red, snapping at him to shut up. Though he did not understand the humor behind the exchange, he knew there was a hidden implication in those word. Most curious. Accepting his tofu hamburger, and the fact that McCoy insisted that, along with potato salad, they had all the trappings of a real picnic, he set aside his questions for Jim. There would be time for that later. For now, he would participate in the only remotely familiar event, educating himself of the differences in picnics.

… … .. . .. … …

**Yes, I went there, but only so far as you want me to. Do you guys want some detailed, extensive look into Tarsus, a quick gloss over, or should I skip it entirely and leave it a vague memory with a name that doesn't need explained to have the impact it's supposed to?**

**I'm curious about whether you want to hear my random spiel of what happened, since that isn't really the point of this fic, or not, so please let me know or I'm just going to end up doing what flows best, even if it isn't the most satisfying.**

**It would be added trauma for Jim that you'd get to read if you like seeing him horrified, and would clear up some gaps that might form later…or have already stealthily been put in place without being too noticeable. But it would also bog down a bit of the story, taking about half a chapter, maybe a full one even, without furthering the plot significantly, since the _exact_ details of Jim's shitty life don't have to take center stage. (Just a very prominent right.)**


	28. Chapter 28

**Don't own.**

**Here's the deal. This chapter **_**is**_** all Tarsus. Skip it if you want, that's why I put a second update up today. If you just want what he told Spock, skip the **_italicized_** sections. Or read the whole thing if you like. I tried to make it pretty easy if you want to skip sections. The division of wants was pretty even, so that's why you get this. **

**Sorry if you're disappointed.**

**Nothing told here is actually critical for the story…**

… … .. . .. … …

After dinner, Jim stalked silently to his room, Spock trailing closely after. He waited until they were both seated on the floor to look at his First Officer.

"I suppose I owe you that answer now."

Spock didn't reply, knowing there was nothing to say.

"Only ten other people know this. You'll make eleven…Well, it all started when Frank said I could leave. We found a colony that wanted young hands and minds." Jim laughed bitterly. "I was both. I left on a transport three days after I drove the car over the cliff…"

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><p><span>… .. . .. …<span>

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><p><em>A young Jim Kirk sat idle in his seat on the transport, the suitcase of items at his feet the only remainder of Iowa. Next to him, a burly construction worked was fast asleep, snoring like a Tralathian snow worm sawing through trees. He was free of Earth and the memories that place held. Free to start a new life, and make something of himself.<em>

_When he got to Tarsus IV, he was put in the care of a host family, the Rileys. Their son, Kevin, was just a few years younger than him. For once he got to be the older brother, teaching Kevin how to farm, how to fight and fish, and how to throw a ball._

_It was a couple months into his stay that the governor of the colony heard about his impressive efforts in the farming of the colony and his self-made attitude. Jim was called into the main city to see him._

"_You work hard and only rely on yourself." Kodos spoke as Jim entered his office._

_He paused a step, considering the statement before continuing in. "Yes, sir."_

"_I admire that. All too often, people are sniveling bottom feeders." Kodos pursed his lips in thought, standing up to close the distance between them._

"_I appreciate the sentiment sir. Was that the only reason you called me in here?" Jim's tone was instinctually defiant._

_Kodos laughed, kneeling down to get a look at Jim. "You're a pretty boy, bright eyes full of youthful vigor."_

_Jim tensed, but said nothing. Kodos' long finger wrapped around his chin, turning his head this way and that, inspecting him. The other hand carded through golden locks with an almost scientific cynicism._

"_I wonder if it's something in your blood that makes you so stout hearted." He murmured absentmindedly, releasing him. "Tell me, James Kirk, do you like being given responsibility?"_

"_I can handle it, if that's what you're asking." Jim responded stubbornly._

"_I see." He laughed. "I suppose you wouldn't like it, a free spirit such as yourself. It is such a lonely position, being in power. No one can dream of being close to you. And you would want that, wouldn't you? To be close to the other children in the colony?"_

"_No sir. I wouldn't." Jim's eyes were steely, focused on the wall behind Kodos._

"_Very good." Kodos murmured, pleased by what he found. "And your opinion of mercy?"_

"_Only that you shouldn't need it if you've done nothing wrong, and you aren't likely to deserve it if you have." The words were chilling from the little voice that issued them._

"_I have a proposition for you, James."_

"_It's Jim. My friends call me Jim." He gave the much older man an intrigued look._

_Kodos laughed again. "And if we are not equals, then are we not friends? Very well, Jim. Many of the children in the colony know nothing of procedure or tactics or even farming. Do you know of an earth group called the boy scouts?"_

"_I've heard of them." Jim shrugged._

"_I'd like you to lead a youth force, teaching them the important skills you know." Kodos instructed, standing up._

"_I'm listening…"_

* * *

><p><span>… .. . .. …<span>

* * *

><p>"When I first got there, it wasn't so bad. I was used to farm work. I ended up staying with another family living there. The governor heard about how much I was helping out in the colony." Jim looked down at his hands. "Kodos put me in charge of a youth group. I guess he wanted me to learn to be like him."<p>

* * *

><p><span>… .. . .. …<span>

* * *

><p><em>Two months later, Jim had most of the children in the colony in somewhat cohesive, militaristic units. It was around this time he came to report to Kodos on how the project was going. He'd learned, very early on, that Kodos took great amusement when he would break in and sneak past his guards. Why the older man never felt threatened, he didn't know, but he suspected Kodos wished to make him into a personal guard. He was thrilled by this thought, and actively pursued to please the other man and gain his acceptance.<em>

_It was one such occurrence when Jim was crouched just around a corner of Kodos' private office when he froze, listening to a completely unfamiliar voice in conference with him._

"_With this, both of our objectives will be fulfilled." The unfamiliar voice said with an air of familiarity._

"_If you're sure it will work." Kodos murmured thoughtfully._

"_You want this, don't you?" The voice questioned in the lifeless tone Jim recognized as a very early universal translator._

"_But not at the cost of what is important to me." Kodos told him. "You are sure it will be as quick as you say?"_

"_It will." The voice told him. "And no one will trace it back to you."_

"_Good. Now tell me-" Kodos stopped abruptly. "What?"_

"_There is someone there."_

"_Leave." Kodos told the voice. "I'll handle this. We'll finish our discussion later."_

_Jim made to leave when he heard the retreating footsteps, but Kodos was quicker and ducked around the corner to levy Jim with a surprised look._

"_Jim. You're early."_

_Jim tensed, glancing over Kodos' shoulder in search of the mysterious voice. Kodos continued, eyes narrowed at the young man._

"_What did you hear?" Kodos' voice was dangerous._

"_It was too muffled to make anything out." Jim lied. "Who were you speaking to?"_

"_Just one of my personnel." Kodos smiled stiffly at him. "Please, come in. Tell me how your work with the other youths is going."_

* * *

><p><span>… .. . .. …<span>

* * *

><p>"I overheard him talking with someone, a few months later. They were discussing getting away with something. The person he was talking to was using a really old translator. It was completely toneless, computerized. I didn't know you could even find those anymore." Jim realized he was getting sidetracked, and sighed. "I should have stopped trusting him then."<p>

* * *

><p><span>… .. . .. …<span>

* * *

><p><em>A month an a half later, Jim turned thirteen. Kodos threw a celebration for him, giving him the honorary insignia of his personal military force. Jim had never felt more welcome, accepted, then when Kodos had him begin official training. The men didn't look at him like he were a child unworthy of their attention. Rather, they instructed him as Kodos wished, as though he were the governor's own son.<em>

_On his own, Jim began training his youth core for police actions. He just knew Kodos would be thrilled, and surprised by his accomplishments. It was around that time that a strange fungus began attacking the crops. In spite of the colony's best efforts, the growing crops were destroyed within the month. With only the reserves to feed them, the colonists grew worried._

"_Do we know when Starfleet will be here with emergency supplies?" Jim asked Kodos one night in his study._

_Kodos shook his head. "I'm afraid not."_

"_This is bad." Jim paced the room, chewing thoughtfully on his thumb. "If they arrive within two weeks, everything will be fine, but rations will start to thin after that. In their weaker state, the colonists will be susceptible to disease…"_

"_You've learned well." Kodos set aside his book, patting the couch next to him for Jim to approach._

"_I'm worried." Jim told him, resting against his side._

_Kodos smiled softly at him, running a hand absently over his hair. "It's alright, Jim. You're still a child. You don't have the experience and training I do. I know what must be done."_

"_What?"_

"_You'll see soon. Everyone will." Kodos told him warmly._

_Two days later, the governor stood before half of his colony. He had plans to address the rest of the public the following day. Jim imagined it wouldn't take that long for whatever news he had to travel. He stood just a ways from the podium, among the private guard. Many of the children he taught were in the uniforms that had been designed for them, standing at the front of the procession in neat, waiting rows. It was, to the many colonists, a surprise to be addressed directly, as Kodos was a naturally secretive man._

_This was the first time many of them, including Jim's trainees, had seen him._

_Blood thundered in Jim's ears, almost drowning out the speech as fear and alarm began to overtake him. Screams of panic filled the square as the private military let loose a volley of phaser shots. Jim watched his friends and family be plowed down mercilessly by the men he had trusted._

_In a moment of rage, Jim yanked a phaser from one of the guards, taking a shot at Kodos. The neat perimeter that was working so well to decimate the few remaining citizens fell to peaces, split between killing the remaining survivors and defending the governor. Jim caught one last look at the crazy, disappointed eyes levied in his direction before Kodos had disappeared and Jim did what he could for those still struggling._

_With distraction and guile, Jim succeeded in freeing some of his child crew from the frenzied massacre, them being the only ones who were capable of avoiding the phaser shots. There were nine of them, in total, including Jim himself. Almost immediately, terror gave way to anger and cold, lifeless professionalism. These children were no older than him, in most cases, but they bandaged their wounds and turned to him._

"_We should mount an attack." Thomas Leighton, the only boy older than him, and one who was the least injured, made his suggestion to Jim with the tone of a suspicious man._

"_We need to collect our forces. The members of the youth core that weren't there need to help us, or we'll never be able to take Kodos on our own." Jim told him, well aware the others were listening._

"_Maybe you're just stalling us." One boy cawed in anger. "You're practically his pet."_

"_Jim was the one who shot at him." Kevin protested immediately. "He's the only reason we made it out."_

"_Everyone stop." Jim growled. "I know I misjudged him. You can hate me for that later. For now, we need to think of a plan."_

_The next day was filled with sneaking and plotting. Kodos' planned announcement wasn't made, for the fear of his life. Jim caught wind of whispers that something was happening in the private square just outside Kodos' mansion, and led his small force there._

_He was horrified by what he found._

_Piles of the dead were towered high. With detached, mindless obedience, children poured an accelerant on the piles. Jim's children. The people he had trained himself, following orders given by the men of the private military. Jim could see no fear, no trouble, just obedience. As though they weren't assisting in atrocities. Certainly as though they weren't being forced to do so._

_When the fires lit, Jim's band of rogues took the square. The men rushed inside to alert Kodos, leaving the brainwashed children to deal with the small force._

"_You don't have to help him!" Jim told them. "Come with us and we can stop Kodos."_

_One fifteen year old, the apparent leader of the band, who Jim himself had appointed, shook his head. "Kodos told us what's happening. It's only logical to dispose of the least productive, the least useful, members of our society in a time like this."_

"_We could have saved everyone." Jim told him coldly._

_With that, his band attacked. The children fought against him tooth a nail, convinced by what the adults had told them. Jim's crew accomplished what they were attempting, though, and made it into the compound._

_Chaos ensued._

_For a full night, Jim and his boys evaded Kodos' men. It was this night that Jim managed to convince himself that trust was overrated. The people who just a couple days ago he relied on, had full faith in, were hunting him like an animal._

_By a turn of misfortune, they were discovered by the guards, and brought to Kodos' personal study. Jim wondered at what fortune it was that he'd been delivered where he wanted, and was likely to die before he could do anything with it. Kodos paced before the expansive window, lit by the flame of the bodies still burning far below in the square, his suit heavy with the medals of his office._

"_You had such promise."_

"_You're a dickhead." Jim snarled._

"_Just what have you been up to here? Tell, me." Kodos smiled sickeningly at him. "You've made quite a ruckus. To what end? And what was it like? Standing among those who had fallen?"_

_Bile rose in Jim's throat. Kodos, narrowed his eyes._

"_There was a report. A rumor that you had found the few who hadn't made it to the square, that you'd hidden them away. When was this? The night after the order? How did you find them so quickly? And what have you done with them?"_

"_We'll never tell you." Thomas roared, attempting to lung against the bonds that held him down._

"_Oh, I think you will." Kodos lifted the poker from his fire, a tender, loving look on his face. "Jim will answer all my questions. Anything to make the pain stop."_

"_I can handle anything you throw at me!" Jim challenged._

"_I think you've misunderstood." Kodos told him, rounding on Thomas. "You won't be the one in pain."_

* * *

><p><span>… .. . .. …<span>

* * *

><p>"I was with him at the execution. I could only save a few of them." Jim's voice turned remorseful. "They burned the bodies. I…he used children to burn the bodies, Spock. He had them light the fires. We…the other survivors and I…we invaded his compound. We were going to kill him. We were caught. Kodos…he tortured them in front of me."<p>

* * *

><p><span>… .. . .. …<span>

* * *

><p><em>In the end, Kodos was right. Jim couldn't stand to see the others in pain, and nothing he could do would draw Kodos' attentions to him. Sobbing at the futility of it all, Jim told him. He told him how they had familiarized themselves with the housing. How they knew the fastest route. How they had found the few on the kill list who had already been too sick to make the massacre. How they'd organized themselves and he honestly couldn't tell him where they were if he wanted to.<em>

_He wouldn't have even if he did know._

_He told him of the plan to find him, take him captive and use him as a hostage to ensure the military force did as they were told, and took care of all of the survivors as they would the people who weren't on the kill list. How they would hold him prisoner until Starfleet arrived and how he would be taken prisoner and tried for his crimes._

_Not one of his men looked at him like he were a traitor, seconds themselves from offering the information to stop they and their comrades' pain. None had been so disfigured as Thomas, but the wounds were upon all of them. Jim's bled where no one could see them._

_In the time it had taken to tell his story to Kodos, Jim had loosened his bonds. It had been foolish to use anything but the best of means, and Kodos was foolish. Freed, Jim sprung forward._

_For a moment, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Jim's lunge was graceless, a messy leap propelled by his coiled muscles. He had no weapon, no real plan. Around him, guns came to bear, shouts of warning deaf in his ears. Kodos' face fell, seeing his own death in the blue eyes riveted on him. Jim felt his heart beat, just six beats before his hands connected with Kodos' body. The heavy fabric of his militaristic uniform was rough under his palms. Light danced off of the medals, almost blinding in Jim's eyes as they twinkled maliciously._

_Jim carried through, his whole body knocking Kodos off balance. He felt the man push him back, away, and the sound of shattering glass filled his senses. Kodos had always been too proud, too indulgent, for clear aluminum._

_Time sped back up, his breathing heavy and harsh, the gasps of surprise a mere second, and then gone, lost to the stunned silence. He waited for the inevitable blast, signaling his death. At the sound of phaser shots, he exhaled calmly, having come to terms with what was to happen. But there was nothing. A small hand fell on his shoulder, and Jim looked over to see Kevin, holding one of the guards phasers._

"_They're dead, Jim." Thomas' voice sounded from behind him. "The last of the people who knew Kodos are dead."_

_Jim turned, unsurprised to see the bodies. He should never have doubted his crew._

"_Thank you." He croaked out hoarsely._

* * *

><p><span>… .. . .. …<span>

* * *

><p>"I pushed him through a window. He fell into the fires below. The same fire he burned his victims in." If there was a touch of vindictive satisfaction in Jim's voice, Spock didn't call it to attention. "The survivors with me, they killed the last of Kodos' guards with their own phasers to save me."<p>

* * *

><p><span>… .. . .. …<span>

* * *

><p><em>Starfleet, in some grand, comedic joke of the universe, arrived the next day. Jim's crew, ha<em>_ving taken the unofficial post as protectors and governors of the remaining colonists, were the one's to meet them. The men of the landing party took them into consideration immediately, and retreated to call their first officer down. He was a tall man, with dark brown hair, a strong, blocky body, and a no nonsense look about him._

"_I am Commander Garrovick of the USS Farragut. Who is in charge here? What happened to the governor?"_

"_My name is James Tiberius Kirk. I'm in charge. The governor is dead."_

"_Dead! How?"_

"_I killed him."_

_Jim should have known better than to say that. For the next twenty hours, he and his crew were questioned nonstop. Men searched the burned out bodies and found, a fair distance from one of the piles, a body burned beyond recognition, the medals melted to the unidentifiable body indicative of the governor. Jim wasn't sad to hear it, just stating he hoped he was still alive when he caught fire._

_Malicious statements aside, the colonists of Tarsus IV backed up Jim's words. Though none of them had seen Kodos' in person, his message still reached the people and the children he had enlisted to burn those he had massacred. Kodos the executioner, they called him._

_Starfleet sought psychiatric care for the people touched by the disaster. Kirk declined. Eventually, it was agreed that the Commander should try to find some way to get him to open up. Kirk found that laughable. They'd been brief in their explanations, so no one could begin to understand what truly happened. A lock down on the information was immediately issued, so that the only records available were the names of the dead, the fact that there had even been an order, and one poorly taken picture of Kodos himself._

_Kirk spoke, once, to a councilor, and had the girl leaving the room in tears, refusing to work with him again._

_Satisfied that he had made his point, he watched the coming and leaving of emergency personnel. Many of the colonists left, leaving room for the Starfleet scientists to try and find out just what happened. It was two weeks after Kodos' death that Garrovick finally approached him. The were sitting on the observation deck, silent._

"_You couldn't have known what he was planning." Garrovick told him._

_Jim glowered at him. "What do you know?"_

"_I know I was a week too late."_

_The both stared silently at each other. Finally, Jim nodded in agreement. Garrovick took that as a sign to continue._

"_I can't help but wonder. If I had been here just a bit sooner, would I have been able to save the people he killed? Would it have mattered at all?" He sighed, shaking his head. "You know what I found when I got here?"_

"_Death." Jim answered soberly._

"_Life." Garrovick corrected, to the younger's surprise. "I found you, and the eight others from the kill list that saw his face. I found one hundred and fifty people that would have been systematically hunted down and killed. I found four thousand people on the verge of panic, little more than a week from starvation. I found survivors."_

"_You found a half dead colony."_

"_And I could have found an entirely dead colony, if I had been any later." Garrovick reminded him. "I wanted to save everyone. More than anything, I wish I had, but I didn't. All I can do is accept that a madman got there before I did. That he did something I couldn't have predicted, couldn't have imagined because I don't have a mind like he did, and that I saved those I could. Most of them were saved under their own power, under your power, but I saved who I could. And I'm glad for that, Jim. I'm glad that I tried. Do you know why?"_

_Jim shook his head, tired of this guessing game he was being put through. Garrovick offered him a smile._

"_I'm glad I tried, because it proves that I'm not like him. It proves that I hold life, all life, at a higher value than he did. I'm not trying to sound like some pompous jerk here, Jim. I want you to see that you're better than him too." Garrovick chuckled at the sour look on Jim's face. "When Kodos ordered the death of half his colony, where did you point your gun?"_

"_At him." Jim rolled his eyes, knowing he'd already explained that._

"_Why? What were you hoping to accomplish?"_

"_I don't know."_

"_Yes, you do. What did you think would happen?"_

"_That they'd stop!" Jim shouted, leaping to his feet in anger. "That maybe, if he was dead, we could still save almost everyone. That if he died his men would stop shooting."_

"_And when you shot at him, that gave those eight the precious time necessary to escape. That gave you the chance to find the others on the list. You did save them. You should be proud of that fact."_

"_I…"_

"_You saved them. You should always be thankful for the lives you saved. Always."_

_Jim left the observation deck in silence. Garrovick didn't follow him. It would take time for Jim to accept what he'd done as something good. Time he had now. Time away from this horrid memory. The Farragut was leaving in a day. And he knew, finally, Jim would have the chance to sleep. It was hard to miss the boy's tear stained eyes and sleep weary bags just under them. _

_In time, the nightmares would fade._

* * *

><p><span>… .. . .. …<span>

* * *

><p>"Starfleet arrived just the next day. It was the Farragut and Garrovick was its First Officer. There was an investigation. In the end, they found a corpse that couldn't actually be identified. They said it was his." Jim was looking aside again. "I left with Garrovick. He was doing his best to help me, but I was being stubborn about it."<p>

* * *

><p><span>… .. . .. …<span>

* * *

><p><em>The nightmares didn't fade, though, in the darkness of space. Jim howled in terror at nights, jolting awake in the Sickbay. Dreams, not only of Kodos, but of farther past, hunted him, stalking through the dark halls as he paced the ship at night, fleeing from his history.<em>

_Garrovick was worried, when he received constant reports of Jim haunting the halls. None of the others aboard his ship were having such problems. Of course, no one else insisted on excluding themselves from company._

"_You're just making things worse for yourself." Garrovick cornered him, scowl firmly in place._

"_What do you care? As soon as we get back to earth, I'm going to be sent back to Iowa to live with Frank until my mom gets back from her mission." Jim knew Garrovick had looked through every ounce of his available records._

"_So what are you going to do with yourself? Get into trouble? Waste your obvious leadership skills and genius on, what, a life of meaningless wandering? Attempts to run as hard and fast as you can from the things you've seen? What are you going to do, Jim?" Garrovick didn't sound angry, just knowing what question to ask to pierce the armor Jim tried to build around himself._

"_I don't know. But there's no where else for me to go."_

"_Take this, Jim." Garrovick handed him a small, stuffed dog. "It's my son's. He's a ways younger than you. Makes me take it when ever I go on a mission…so the things I see won't haunt me."_

"_I don't want your kid's toy."_

"_Just keep it safe for me, for now." Garrovick told him. "You can give it back to him yourself when we reach the port at Earth."_

"_Fine."_

* * *

><p><span>… .. . .. …<span>

* * *

><p>"He'd managed to trick me into agreeing to meet David." Jim laughed at that, noting the curious look on Spock's face. "He gave me something of David's to 'take care of' until we reached the port."<p>

* * *

><p><span>… .. . .. …<span>

* * *

><p><em>Jim was always good at listening in. He was sneaking around Sickbay, since he still wasn't allowed to leave except on the rare occasions the CMO agreed the observation room would do him better than nothing. Sitting by a doorway, he listened to Garrovick as he spoke with the CMO.<em>

"_How is his condition?"_

"_Honestly, terrible." The CMO sighed. "It's apparent that he wasn't eating well even before the famine. And those few days running around after the massacre, he didn't eat at all."_

"_And the days after Kodos' death?"_

"_Nothing as far as I can tell. He went over a week without any real food."_

"_Damn martyr." He sighed. "And the others?"_

"_Progressing much better. Most of them have started to come to terms with what happened. The only one I'm worried about is Thomas Leighton."_

"_Why Thomas?"_

"_Well, we got to him too late. The damage done to his face had gone too long without proper treatment. It's a wonder they managed to do what they did. But his psychological condition is much worse. He's convinced Kodos isn't dead."_

"_So I have to worry about Jim and Thomas?" Garrovick pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "What about Kevin Riley?"_

"_What about him?"_

"_Is he alright? I saw him charting out the time it takes to get to Tarsus IV from every planet in the federation."_

"_Mild trust issues, an irrational fear that he's the only person around, and a bit of paranoia, but he's fine. He's accepting the help."_

"_Alright."_

* * *

><p><span>… .. . .. …<span>

* * *

><p>"It turns out, he and his CMO were pretty worried for me. They thought I wasn't going to be able to be normal." Jim gave Spock a look daring him to say he was otherwise.<p>

* * *

><p><span>… .. . .. …<span>

* * *

><p>"<em>Where's your son?" Jim asked roughly, awkwardly waiting with his bag, holding the stuffed dog.<em>

_He wasn't willing to admit that it had helped a lot. Something about the little toy, so obviously treasured by someone, was a lead weigh, weighing him down in a comforting way, keeping him in reality._

_Garrovick smirked at him. "Just wait Jim. They'll be here soon."_

_Jim harrumphed, scuffing the ground. He hadn't called Frank yet. He didn't really want that conversation. Which meant he was going to be waiting for a while anyway. But it felt so awkward, waiting with the other man, who viewed him as a child. He was a child, but he'd been forced into responsibility for so long. Forced to keep his distance. He craved the attention he had before…before Frank. He craved being able to do what he wanted, not having anyone to answer to, not having anyone to direct. He wanted to be free of those burdens, of the horrors still holding onto him._

_But he wasn't a child anymore._

_A beautiful woman came into view, her long brown hair falling in loose curls around her shoulders, a little brown haired boy clinging to her hand and gently sucking his thumb, though he was old enough to know better. Garrovick smiled, waving to get her attention. The little boy released her hand, sprinting across the station to fling himself into his laughing father's arms. She approached at a much more moderate pace, eyes soft and loving._

_Jim's chest clinched. She turned her eyes to him and a look of mild surprise graced her features. David scrambled down to look at him. Flushed with embarrassment, Jim thrust the stuffed toy into his hands._

"_Is that one of the survivors?" The woman whispered softly, not realizing Jim could hear her._

"_Yes." Garrovick answered, watching closely as David inspected his toy._

"_You took good care of him." David announced happily._

"_Yeah." Jim replied awkwardly, wondering if he could leave._

* * *

><p><span>… .. . .. …<span>

* * *

><p>"I wasn't exactly what his family was expecting when he came back from his mission either."<p>

* * *

><p><span>… .. . .. …<span>

* * *

><p>"<em>You were on daddy's spaceship?"<em>

"_Yeah, I was."_

"_I was on a space ship once." David said proudly. "But they stabbed me with those awful hypos."_

_Jim couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah, they're the worst."_

_Jim found it suddenly quite easy to speak with David. He was enthusiastic, bright, observant. He was a lot like him, in some weird ways. Soon he was laughing and whispering conspiratorially with David about nothing at all. Garrovick and his wife were watching them in amusement._

* * *

><p><span>… .. . .. …<span>

* * *

><p>"Somehow, me and David got along instantly. So they offered to let me stay with them until my mother got back from her mission, as long as Frank approved."<p>

* * *

><p><span>… .. . .. …<span>

* * *

><p>"<em>Can I keep him? Can I keep him? Can I keep him? Please!" David chanted eagerly.<em>

"_Oh alright already!" Garrovick laughed in alarm. "You can keep him."_

… … .. . .. … …

**Probably not as dramatic as it could be, but I certainly like how it came out. Spock didn't quite get the details you all did, you might note. If you don't know what Tarsus IV is, or you want to know more about it, read the Shatnerverse novel Avenger (don't ready it) or ****watch 'The Conscious of the King'****. I wouldn't really suggest the Shatnerverse novel though.**


	29. Chapter 29

**Don't own.**

**If you missed the Tarsus chapter because of the double update, turn back a chapter. Otherwise, carry on.**

… … .. . .. … …

"And after that, I just ended up staying with Garrovick and his family for a while." Jim concluded, shrugging.

Spock sat silent, contemplating the story he had just been told. He had already surmised that Jim had been on Tarsus IV during the Kodos incident. He had not even begun to conceive the true horrors that had occurred there, though. It stood to reason that such a case, and the list of survivors no less, would be kept confidential and of the highest clearance.

Jim's light tone belied the nerves he was feeling. He chewed thoughtfully at his lip a moment, waiting for some kind of response.

"May I seek clarification on a point?" Spock finally asked.

"Might as well." Jim nodded to him, wondering just what the question would be.

"You indicated, at the beginning of the story, that ten people other than yourself were aware of the in depth nature of your occurrences, as could not be found in the report. Though I include the fact that Doctor McCoy is no doubt privy to this information as well, and the eight other survivors you have mentioned, I can not fathom who would be the tenth person." Spock's brow was furrowed ever so slightly, deeply in thought. "Who is it?"

Jim chilled, a sneer firmly in place. "Kodos."

"Kodos was believed dead." Spock's tone was almost inquisitive.

"Maybe he is, but he'll always count as one of the people who knows the whole story." Jim explained. "He witnessed every moment of it, he _forced_ us to tell him what he hadn't seen. He knew then, and I hope to god if he crawled off that planet he did it with those visions of what he did haunting his every minute."

"Jim…" Spock, didn't want to frown, and upset him, but his eyes said everything.

"I'm fine." He told him, shaking his head. "Really. We should probably get to meditating now, though."

"Indeed." Spock murmured, looking at him with concern.

"Seriously." Jim scolded, scooting a littler closer from his spot on the floor to bring their knees together.

Spock stiffened immediately, shifting his knee away from the touch. Jim snorted at that, blue eyes dancing. It was silly, considering they were going to be holding hands _again_ to be so stuffy about where their knees were. Naturally, Jim loved the subtle way Spock would glare at him when he realized Jim was teasing him with those touches.

He held his hands out, palm up, wily grin in place.

But Spock just stared at him, brown eyes unfathomable. Finally he stood, an action that caused Jim to drop his hands in surprise.

"What? What's wrong?" Jim tried to keep his alarm under control.

"I do not believe I can meditate tonight." Spock turned to leave, heading through the bathroom to his own room.

"Don't you fucking dare." Jim hissed, springing to his feet.

Spock looked in his direction, muted remorse in his eyes. "I do not wish to harm you, Jim. In my current state, my rampant emotions could cause you pain. It is prudent for me to understand what you have told me before I subject you to my weakened barriers."

"That's a bullshit answer and you know it." Jim spat. "You know what? Fine. Leave. Walk away, just like everyone else."

"To what are you referring?" Spock turned back around fully, looking him over in concern.

"You're no better than any of them!" His words were angry, hot with unfounded and unreasonable accusations. "Just like mom, and Sam, and just like Garrovick and Bones! You're just like them."

He caught the pattern immediately. He _knew_ Sam left Jim with Frank. He knew he'd been given into Frank's care by his mother after…whatever had happened. He could only imagine how Garrovick and McCoy had left him in some time of need. Jim felt he was abandoning him.

"I am not leaving you, Jim." Spock corrected to no avail.

"Just go!" Jim cried in anguish. "Just leave me alone! I can take care of myself. I always have."

"No. Jim." Spock found himself wanting to snap and shake the other man by his shoulders and do _something_ to make him realize what he meant. "You are not alone aboard this starship. You would find every one of your crew insulted by such an insinuation. … Myself included."

It was hard to admit, because it laid bare the truth of just how much he was beginning to treasure Jim's friendship. He could not be ashamed of that, and yet it was not something he wished to admit even to himself. It spoke of a weakness far deeper than he was willing to admit. Far deeper than he was willing to explore.

Jim look away, bitterness blatant in his eyes. "Then why are you leaving me?"

"I do not wish to harm you." Spock repeated, stepping closer.

"_This_ is what's 'harming' me." Jim snarled, not willing to let go of his anger. "What did you think, that just walking off and ignoring it until it was more convenient for you would be alright with me? Maybe you don't get that it hurts to tell someone something and have them go process it far, far away from you, but that's what it boils down to. I lay something that is serious to me out in the open and you walk off, completely oblivious to how you're digging a knife into me by doing it."

By the end of his tirade, he was huffing, tears barely held in the corners of his eyes by sheer will not to loose control. His hands were fisted tight at his sides, shoulders slumped in an odd combination with his otherwise ridged posture. From this hunched, almost defensive form, he glared out at Spock, waiting for his response.

Spock didn't know what to say. Jim was right. He wasn't the kind to open up, and so far the only people who had listened to some part of his past had been more than willing to stay. He had been the one to walk out on Jim and McCoy after their sharing session. He had walked out on Nyota when she tried to comfort him after his mother's death. He was the one walking out now. He could only imagine how it would have felt for Pike to have walked away, those years ago, when he first arrived at the academy.

"It was foolish of me not to take into consideration how my actions would appear from your point of view." Spock spoke slowly, considering every word with delicate poise. "However, you should be aware that I would never abandon you, no matter what of your past is revealed to me."

Jim felt himself go red with anger and embarrassment. That had been his worry from the start, hadn't it? And Spock just dismissed his worries like he hadn't had a lifetime of experiences telling him not to trust others with his troubles. Spock spoke to him as though it were absurd to think someone would hold his past against him. And maybe it was, because Spock wasn't human, and didn't look at it the same way as Jim did.

"You shouldn't make promises you can't keep."

"What do you think I will find that would make me desire to leave your side as First Officer and friend?" Spock stepped closer, frowning ever so slightly.

Jim didn't answer, staring imploringly at him, eyes earnestly searching for some sign that he could trust him. He wanted, quite a bit, to trust him on this. To simply, finally open up about everything and, for once in his life, be completely free of secrets with just one person. Better still, the thought he could truly be exorcised of his ghosts without loosing one of the greatest things in his life. To have someone see him like he would never have thought possible, and not shy away at the horrors there. To be accepted.

"Jim…I have hurt you. That was never my intention." Spock took another step closer, hands clenched behind his back to refrain from reaching out to him. "Tell me what I must do."

Jim didn't think about the consequences of his request, knowing it was an illogical, unrelated demand, but one he wanted fulfilled anyway. "Can I touch your ears?"

Dark emerald sprang to life on Spock's cheeks as he blinked in surprise. It seemed a complete non-sequitur to him. It was an apparent derailment of their conversation, completely absurd and illogical in nature.

"Yes?" He answered, too uncertain in his own agreement to notice the inaccurate grammar of Jim's question.

Jim stepped forward quickly, reaching up before Spock could decide he didn't particularly like Jim's demand. He knew exactly what he was looking for, and he could have just asked, but he found the exact words stuck in his throat. That wasn't quite what he wanted to ask, but it served the same purpose either way.

It was decidedly awkward as Jim cupped Spock's ears in his hands, fingers delicately tracing their shape. He softly roved his fingers over them, mindful not to tug at the tips when he brushed them between his thumb and forefinger. Spock stared blankly into his eyes, confused and unable to detect a clear emotion or thought in relation to Jim's actions. His brown eyes opened wider when Jim found what he was looking for.

Just below his calloused fingertips, on Spock's left ear, was the slightest trace of a scar. It was naked to the visible eye, but the skin there was of the slightest different texture, noticeable only by someone who knew what to look for and was intimately familiar with the feel of long healed scars. Jim's other hand fell to his side as he continued to probe the small scar, surveying the damage that had once freely bled by willful design.

The room was no longer filled with awkward, tense confusion. Instead, Spock thoroughly understood the relation of Jim's request to what he had done. Not all of Jim's scars could be so easily detected, and indeed, those dark ones, hidden away, spoke loudest of feeling rejected. He raised his own hand to encompass Jim's, fleeting embarrassment ignored.

"I have already accepted you as you are, Jim." Spock told him truthfully. "What has occurred in the past to make you this way is included in that acceptance."

Jim flushed at the admission, thumb still tracing small patterns across the overwrought flesh. "Then don't leave me."

"I will stay as long as you desire me to." He gently lowered Jim's hand, brown eyes filled with determined ebony swirls.

There was a tentative truth there, silently waiting for one of them to seize it. Jim drew his hand back, smiling ever so slightly.

"Thank you. I…I'm actually pretty tired. I think I'm going to go to bed, so…" He glanced away. "I guess I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight, Spock."

"Goodnight, Jim." Spock bowed his head in allowance and turned to leave, feeling like his abrupt dismissal was a sign of some deeper issue between them.

He would not question it, though. Jim wished to be alone, now, and he would grant him that. It seemed he could do nothing else right tonight, so that in the end all he could do was follow Jim's request. Jim's emotions had been eerily blank, apparently the lessons on meditation improving his own skills in burying his feelings. Spock would meditate on the matter, and attempt to discern what he could further do to prove to Jim his sincerity.

… .. .

"What the hell…at fuck all in the night…" McCoy grumbled, tightening the towel around his waist as he moved to answer the pounding on his door. "I'm trying to shower Jim."

He yanked the door open to a disturbingly calm Kirk. Stepping aside for the almost catatonic man, he watched in wonderment as he came in and stood perfectly in place, saying nothing in greeting, nor making to sit or pace as was usual. McCoy hurried back into the bathroom to dress in record time and was mildly distraught to find Jim hadn't moved an inch in the time it had taken.

"Jim…" McCoy scowled when he received no response. "Do I need to get a medkit in here?"

Jim looked up at that, but was still a blank wall, unemotive. McCoy crossed his arms, considering what more he could possibly say to get a rise, or at least some kind of response from him.

"Should I hypo you?" No response, extremely worrisome. "Do I need to ask Spock what is going on?"

Jim sprang to life at that, cheeks flushing a vibrant red, hanging his head in embarrassment. McCoy watched in interest as Jim twisted the hem of his gold command tunic, chewing at his lip. He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath, then opened them again, fixing McCoy with a desperate look.

"I need help."

"Obviously." McCoy answered impulsively, even as he questioned the quavering in Jim's voice.

"I'm serious." He snapped. "I…Shit. I though I was in over my head before."

"Oh this can't be good." McCoy winced, directing him to sit down. "What happened this time?"

Jim sat down heavily, sinking almost bonelessly onto the bed, to stare down at his hands and consider what to say. McCoy glanced at his desk, yet another hiding place of sometimes very necessary alcohol, and briefly considered how bad this night was going to be. When Jim looked up at him, making a face as serious as any he'd ever seen him take into a fight that meant something, he dropped the thought of alcohol. If it had been something bad, but, in the end, was small potatoes, alcohol was a decent antiseptic for the initial pain. This clearly was going to take something a little more serious.

"Spock."

McCoy quirked an eyebrow at him. "Okay, good to know…what does he have to do with this? Did he do something?"

"No, Bones." Jim furrowed his brow, a desperate look on his face. "I…he…he promised to stay."

"Was he planning on leaving?"

"Nng…not exactly, no…it's complicated. But it was the way he said it. It was so…so real, Bones." Jim heaved a sigh. "I don't know what to think. He said he's already accepted everything about me, even if I haven't told him it yet. How can he just say that?"

McCoy rolled his eyes at the exasperated tone Jim had taken. "Some people find they trust someone, and aren't constantly looking for some flaw in order to run away."

"I never looked for flaws in you." Jim protested.

"You didn't have to. And that made it easier on you to trust me. I wasn't Mr. Perfect, got-my-shit-together, can-do-no-wrong. There was no point in thinking I was hiding some dark shit when you'd already seen some of my worst." McCoy sighed, knowing the light tone did nothing to show how shaken Jim was. "Face it, Jim. You're a captain, and you've already proven you're a responsible guy. People are going to put their trust in you. Especially people who you've managed to worm you way under their skin."

"I'm hardly under Spock's skin." He knew arguing against the rest of that would get them nowhere.

McCoy shook his head, greatly amused by that. "Yeah Jim, you are. You're under his skin and swimming in that green blood of his. Nothing you can do about it now. You're stuck with him, like a loyal dog trotting along with its master."

"None of that made a lick of sense." Jim informed him testily, scowling. "And he shouldn't trust me. We've been back and forth all last month. We hardly know each other. It was just a few weeks ago we'd finally gotten past our utter hate fests. Or did you forget that?"

"Who could?" The abrasive doctor grunted. "I don't expect you to really understand, since you don't trust him-"

"I do to!" Jim yelped.

McCoy rounded on him with a snap. "Then why are you so quick to presume he's just going to dump you like a sack of overripe peaches? You either don't trust him, or you don't _want_ to trust him because then you'd have to accept that maybe you can move on and have real relationships that aren't based on some weird sense of mutual responsibility and masochism. You don't want a relationship deeper than trusting someone with your life, because than feelings get involved and you're scared you'll get hurt."

Jim gaped at him in shock, surprised by the outburst. McCoy continued anyway, ignoring the soft sputtering from the man beside him.

"Guess what, though, Jim. We aren't just patching each other up anymore. You came to _me_ because there were feelings involved tonight and I'm the closest thing you have to someone you can talk about feelings to. It took us the ass end of forever to get to the point where our relationship could almost be called a normal, if a bit close, friendship, but we're there. Get off your damn high horse and accept what Spock's offering you because I'd bet you a life-time supply of Alderian firewater that Spock has a problem with the whole 'feelings' aspect of your relationship too and doesn't really have anyone he can call a friend besides Uhura." McCoy heaved in breaths, angry rant taking a bit from him.

"I…"

"I swear to God if you waffle about I'm going to leave you hypoed, in your underwear, in a Jefferies tube."

"That's…specific." Jim frowned.

"Jim…"

"I didn't realize you thought I was pushing you away." Jim started softly. "And I'm sorry for that. I'm not trying to keep you at arm's distance. I'm just…you're right. I'm afraid I'm going to get hurt. I've trusted too many people who hurt me to just blindly hand it over anymore."

"Isn't that how the heart works?" McCoy asked sourly.

"What I'm trying to say…" Jim rolled his eyes at him. "Is that you're right, and I should be giving Spock more of a chance. I think I need to pay more attention to our relationship and figure out what is going on with it. If I just barrel into this blindly, we're both going to get hurt."

He missed the doctor's sharp inhalation. McCoy just knew what Jim would find if he opened himself up and started looking hard enough. That smacked of trouble. It was too late, now, for him to protest though.

"That almost sounds like the mature decision." He said sarcastically.

"Gee, thanks." Jim rolled his eyes. "You'd think I never made one of those."

… .. .

"Two days." Jim mumbled around his bacon, no more sure of what he was doing than he had been the night before.

Speaking to Spock had been anything but illuminating on the issues of the crop failure. He had almost hoped talking it out with Spock would make something click, but the only thing he found out last night was that Spock was a very forgiving guy and Bones had finally gotten fed up with his bull. That, and he had some serious re-evaluation of his life he apparently needed to do. He was almost as tired of being a kid as everyone was having to deal with his childish behavior.

"Jim…May I join you?" Spock appeared out of nowhere, waiting patiently to be accepted or declined.

"Uh…Of course." Jim nodded quickly.

Across the canteen, his senior crew was glaring at his table with pure exasperation. Scotty wasn't bothering to look over.

"They fought again, didn't they?" Sulu asked, eyes darting between them and his pancakes.

"It sure looks like it." Uhura sighed.

"Iz looking like vhat?" Chekov asked as he approached, then sighed when he realized they were looking at Jim and Spock. "Iz Keptin und Kommander again?"

"Don't worry about it." Sulu said quickly, pulling his eyes from their table.

"Iz not much I can be doing. They are like pre-varp society. Ken not be given the knovledges too soon or they vill not be readiez for it."

"What?" Uhura spoke, but all three of them looked at him.

"Iz apt, da? Ve are knoving they are on werge of finding information on ovn, but they vill not be beliwing if ve tell them. They vill fight against knovledges if giwen too soon. So they are hawing to figure out on their ovn, and they are wery slouv in doing so." Chekov sighed knowingly, earning confused looks.

"What knowledge?"

"That they are being in lowves, duh." Chekov rolled his eyes.

There was a stunned moment of silence as Sulu and Uhura processed that Chekov was apparently aware of the tentative, impending relationship just close to happening between their command team. Scotty seemed to be contemplating the kids way of putting it.

"Aye, tha's pretty fittin' laddy." Scotty broke the silence.

"Since when did you know about that?" Sulu choked out.

"Iz obwious from start of mission. They vere hawing looks on bridge."

"L-looks?" Uhura choked, flushing.

"He's righ' on tha' one." Scotty chuckle. "Right eye se-"

"Stop!" Sulu coughed in alarm. "Both of you stop!"

"Do not be telling you had no noticed!" Chekov said, alarmed.

"We didn't know you noticed!" Uhura whispered urgently as a crewmember passed.

"Iz not problem, iz it?" Chekov asked worriedly. "I am knoving you vere inwolwed vith Kommander."

"Does everyone know-" Uhura started in exasperation.

"You weren't exactly subtle." Sulu admitted.

"We were talking about _their_ love life, I believe." Uhura growled. "And how we can get them together without just telling them."

"There are way too many plots going on in this ship." Sulu groaned, dropping his head to the table.

Back at their table, Jim and Spock were decidedly silent. Mostly because they weren't sure what to say to break the silence. Jim had no idea where to go with a conversation, since they were entering an entirely new area of relationships to him. It occurred to him there was still one aspect of their relationship that hadn't changed.

"How are things going in the science department?" His voice didn't waver, thankfully, but his tone was tense.

"All experiments are in order, Captain." Spock replied easily, though his eyes held a measure of relief. "You may find one in particular of interest though."

"Oh?" Jim perked up.

If Spock said it would be interesting…

"The ensigns you became acquainted with prior are attempting to isolate the chemical structure of the Keruvian moss."

"What?" Jim laughed. "Why?"

"I was told it was in the hopes of making not only a binding solution, but a solvent against it as well." Spock looked mildly amused, like the whole idea was pleasantly ridiculous.

"And you approved this?" Jim shook his head in surprise.

"Indeed. I encouraged it as an exercise in analysis and synthesizing of foreign substances. It is a subject I have found their education to be lacking in." Spock admitted.

Jim frowned. "I haven't really had a good chance to look at what classes my younger crew members have been missing. I've been getting reports from every department about needing extra hours for more elaborate training. Every time I sit down to figure out what lessons I can order in mass, I end up swamped with so much other paperwork."

"If I may, Captain…" The look on Spock's face implied he had a suggestion.

"By all means."

"It would not be particularly difficult to discern the needs of my own department. Perhaps such would also be the case with the other department heads?"

"Yeah, okay…where are you going with this?"

"In addition to the required lessons not completed by the junior staff, there are far more detailed lessons, more specified in the least, that would prove beneficial." Spock steepled his fingers. "I would suggest the implementation of an educational system, to be added to the work rotation, for continued education of all personnel."

"That's quite a bit of work." Jim pointed out, not really disagreeing. "But at heart, the Enterprise _is_ a learning vessel, isn't it?"

"My thoughts exactly, Captain." Spock's lips twitched through a smug smirk. "It would encourage the education necessary for specialization that much of the crew would not otherwise receive."

"We'd need data disks recorded by some of the highest in the fields." Jim hummed thoughtfully. "I think you'd find, though, that most of the crew would take to the information willingly. Obviously they'll be given real time to work on it, but don't be too surprised if people start spending their free time with their noses buried in a data chip of the latest scientific material or something."

"I have no doubt of this, Jim." Spock gave him the slightest smile.

"Sneaky Vulcan." He accused in amusement. "You _want_ to get the crew excited over learning. You're hoping they'll be more prepared for exploratory missions if they don't just have basic Starfleet knowledge."

"I have no reason to deny such."

Jim laughed enthusiastically. At times like that he couldn't help but wonder how he ever managed to be uncomfortable around him. Spock seemed like just the kind of person he would be friends with, assuming of course that they managed to get that far. His sharp but subtle wit and stealthy humor was something Jim enjoyed immensely.

Spock ducked his head to resume eating, feeling decidedly better than he had the night before. After leaving Jim, his actions weighed heavily on him. He was coming to understand the quick, resourceful mind, not a contradiction, but a far expansive range of understanding. It was his strange ability to see both sides of the boards, from different perspectives than his own, that made him such a dangerous tactician, in both fighting _and_ friendship. Spock rather enjoyed that quick cunning.

It seemed they were becoming quiet proficient at determining the other's line of thinking.

"Hurry up and finish eating." Jim ordered. "We should get to the bridge."

"Of course, Captain." Spock inclined his head in agreement.

… .. .

"Spock, get over here. I need you."

Jim's disgruntled announcement came after an over exaggerated groan that had caught most of the crew's attention. Spock came over quietly, immediately peering down at Jim's PADD, to assist him as much as he could. He noticed immediately that the captain had improperly filled out a form, out of order no less.

"Captain…" Spock's eyes cast blatant disapproval in his direction. "While I understand your current intent is to alert Starfleet command to the…absurdity of unnecessary paperwork, perhaps you should consider allowing yourself a reprise? You are making sophomoric mistakes that you are normally quite capable of avoiding."

Jim glared up at him through the lecture. "Spock, can I speak with you a minute?"

He noticed him tense before nodding. Jim cast a look in Sulu's direction as he stood. When his pilot nodded, he lead Spock off the bridge and into the nearest briefing room. They stared at each other in silence a moment.

"I'm not doing any unnecessary paperwork." Jim blurted out.

"While that is technically true-"

"No, Spock." Jim cut him off, shaking his head. "You don't get it. The admirals aren't pissed at me. Well, okay, there were a few scathing, sarcastic remarks, but check a holo feed every now and then. They've been lauding me to the media as _responsible_."

Jim wasn't sure if he should be laughing when Spock's only reply was the upward sweep of his brows.

"I've been getting updates from some of my…less admiral friends." Jim admitted, shrugging. "Apparently it's been a big deal that everyone thinks I'll just hotshot my way through my paperwork and, get this, _make up_ captain's logs. Now, the original paper load I still have no idea on, but when I delved into filing every contrite piece of paper I could find…at first media was skeptical, saying I had you doing most of the work, but with specifics from engineering, medical, all that being carefully leaked by Starfleet to make my entire crew look like they're busting their asses? That changed me from the rebel hero who took over a ship to do what needed done, and then never gave it back, to the Federation poster boy."

"I would not presume you would find that pleasing." Spock admitted, still considering what he was being told.

"Oh I hate it." Jim laughed. "But this is good. If I keep this up, my crew will get full reign again and I won't be playing lapdog. We'll actually get to explore the unknown sometime during this five year mission."

"You have put much consideration into this." Spock accused.

"Does that really seem surprising?" Jim frowned, tone no longer as light.

"No." He found himself entirely truthful in that answer. "But it is intriguing. You are quite aware that, in all likelihood, you have made a difficult situation for yourself?"

"It's not that bad." He pushed back his blond hair with a sigh. "Once the media gets used to the idea that I can apparently do no wrong, Starfleet will bitch at me to stop sending so much paperwork, because the only use they have for it is to show it off. I fill out a few extra reports that look good every now and then, that can be used for leaks, and people go on thinking I'm working at the same level as before."

"This had not been your original intent."

"Plans change."

"If you would like, I will go over your reports to ensure they are accurate before they are sent out." Spock inclined his head to him, conceding that the discussion was over.

"Thank you." Jim hummed, rubbing at his sore neck. "It would help a lot."

"Is there anything else, Captain?"

Jim looked over at him, honestly wondering if there was. So far, everything was in order. So far they couldn't find any problem worse than an old fungus that was a day and a half from being eradicated, because the scientists on his ship were geniuses and had _three_ different, viable plans for eradicating it. Jim shook his head no, even as he started towards the door.

Spock was between him and the door. He hadn't though about it when he first started moving, but the fact that he stopped, toe to toe with him meant he really should have been thinking about it. Spock tilted his head ever so slightly, looking mildly confused by the sudden intrusion. And, rather than use that brain of his, like he promised himself he would, Jim reached up, fingers grazing the scar on Spock's ear. Spock didn't tense, by some miracle of Vulcan training, but Jim felt the extra heat under his fingers as blood rushed to his ears.

He coughed awkwardly, drawing his hand back. "T-that's all, thank you."

Spock stared after him a moment, willing his heart beat to return to it's normal rate. He would not allow Jim to see how he had startled him. He had given him permission and, as he should have known with Jim, he would have to revoke it if he wished for him to stop. He chose to ignore the logic of considering this option in favor of returning to his work.

The crew was suspiciously silent when they both returned. They remained silent through the shift as Jim and Spock conferred on the documents he was detailing.

As soon as the shift was over, Jim set aside his paperwork. "Hey Sulu, Bones finally released me to do what I want in the exercise rooms. Want to go a few rounds?"

He missed the look Spock shot him, and no one else was fluent enough in his moods to decipher it. Sulu shrugged, stretching as he stood.

"I could use a good match." He grinned. "Think you can provide one?"

Jim did. And not just for Sulu. The majority of his off time, he spent sparring members of his security crew. He barely remembered to stop for a bit to eat before he headed back to his room to sleep. He knew it had been rude to basically cancel his plans with Spock but, after what happened in the briefing room, he wasn't exactly willing to touch Spock more than absolutely necessary. At least, not until he figured out _why_ he wanted to.

… … .. . .. … …

**Have I mentioned how very slow progressing this fic is? Because it is.**


	30. Chapter 30

**If you're only just realizing I don't own Star Trek…I'm worried.**

**I do love you guys who review so much. Sorry I got it up so late today...And to _Luna14_, I'm sorry the summary was a put off. I had no idea what to say, still don't. If anyone has any ideas to make it sound better, by all means, let me know.**

… … .. . .. … …

Jim rolled out of bed, snagging his phaser from the edge in the same fell swoop and landing in a crouched defensive position. A second later, he blinked at the darkness, registering that he was awake and his comm unit on the wall was beeping obscenely at him. He ordered lights to seventy percent even as he stumbled over, placing his phaser on the desk.

"Kirk here." He stifled a yawn.

"Captain!" The voice of one of the many communication lackeys filtered through and he was too tired to place a name. "Admiral Pike has placed an emergency call and is requesting to speak with you immediately."

Jim glanced down and, noting his sleeping clothes were slightly ruffled, decided it was Pike's fault for calling in the middle of his sleep cycle. "Patch it through here."

"Yes Sir."

Jim headed to his desk, settling down heavily and flicking the screen on. Pike looked positively distraught, which wasn't a good sign coming from someone so normally composed. He also, Jim noticed, was in his sleep wear. Surprising since the day night cycles didn't often line up quite right. He pulled himself up straighter in his seat though, knowing it had to be important if Pike got woken up over it.

"What's happening?"

Pike grimaced at him, hearing the exhaustion in his voice. "We're alerting all of the Captains, but you need to hear this especially."

Jim really, really wished he hadn't.

… .. .

It was approximately ten minutes into Alpha shift when Jim graced the bridge. No one had been concerned until they saw his face. He looked haggard, mouth set in a grim line. Without so much as a greeting, he trotted to his seat, a distinct slowness to his step, and banged the comm.

"Bridge to Sickbay."

"Sickbay here." McCoy grumbled in quick response. "Need something Jim?"

"Come to the bridge. Kirk out." That left little room for argument.

Now the crew was watching him, anticipatory looks in place. If he wanted McCoy on the bridge, there was bound to be an announcement. In the time it took Bones to get there, Jim adjusted a few command options and paced the room shortly.

He knew he wouldn't have the gumption to stand back up if he sat down.

"What's going on here?" McCoy asked accusingly, brandishing a medkit.

Jim took a deep breath to prepare himself for what he was about to do. "Ensign Makovich, Ensign Dalmer, set your phasers to stun, keep them trained on Doctor McCoy and Mr. Spock."

The two security officers hesitated even as said individuals straightened in alarm. The rest of the crew was deathly silent, holding their breaths, air filled with unease.

"Do it." Kirk said calmly when they didn't comply.

McCoy eyed the phaser trained on him with pure loathing. "You had better have a damn good fucking reason for this Jim."

"I do." Jim heaved a great sigh. "I have something I need to say and I can't have either of you attempting to knock me out in some misguided attempt at making me reconsider."

"Captain." Spock lifted one eyebrow, telling him he was an idiot. "I find it highly unlikely that I would make any such attempt."

Jim shook his head, and fixed them both with a tired, piercing stare. "Just listen damn it. I received an emergency report from Pike last night, about five minutes to midnight. I've been up ever since running loops and putting every ounce of energy I can into figuring this problem out. Here's where the part you won't like comes in." Jim paused, rubbing his face a little in his exhaustion. "Bones, I need you to give me a pep shot."

"What!" He roared, only minutely more horrified than the rest of the crew. "Damn it Jim that'll kill you if it doesn't just lay you up in a coma!"

"One won't kill me." Jim reminded, then grimace. "Which very well may be a problem."

"Just what the hell have you been doing all night that you need a _pep_ shot? And what the hell do you mean it may be a problem?"

Pep shots were notoriously bad ideas. They were an artificial stimulant and energy provider, that could keep a person operating at their highest for about twelve hours. Often, people would sleep for another twelve after. The more you used them, in a short period of time, the less useful they became, and the longer you would sleep afterwards. Doctors were unlikely to prescribe them to anyone but other doctors, and even then only in the case of extreme emergency.

"I've been seeking out contacts and…working through engineering with Scotty to make a plan for actually installing the advanced shielding we were looking into, while we're on New Vulcan. I need everything in this ship to be at it's best. The problem is, to get everything done, I need to be running at max for the next two days."

"No way." McCoy said immediately. "You'd need six or seven shots to do it."

"I must also advise against this course of action." Spock added quickly, brow drawn in consternation. "I-"

"I already factored in your help Spock." Jim interrupted quickly, earning small looks of horror. "And that's if you're willing to spend the next two days running yourself as hard as you can with no sleep."

"I believe you are underestimating me, Jim."

"No. I'm not. Now listen. I understand it's going to be rough, but it has to be done. I'll give myself one day after to rest up."

"That's not even close to enough!"

"And then you'll have to wake me up if I'm not up." Jim continued like McCoy hadn't interrupted at all.

"I can not see any possible reason for your actions, Captain." Spock's voice was dangerously low, his eyes darting to the security officers. "Explain yourself."

Jim really felt for the poor security members, but he didn't tell them to drop their phasers. "I'll call a meeting right now, if I knew for sure you'd listen."

"We are listening." McCoy snapped. "Not much else to do when you're a hostage."

"Fine." Jim rolled his eyes. "Chekov, make an announcement that I need my department heads in the briefing room five minutes ago. Makovich, Dalmer, keep your sights on them until Giotto arrives. Let's go."

Everyone scrambled to follow his orders, flying out of their seats and down the hall as soon as they were finished and ready for the meeting. Chekov and Sulu made to follow, and Jim shook his head, waving them down.

"I _need_ you two at my helm right now. Scotty already knows he's exempt from coming if he sees it necessary. You will find out what's going on, I promise." Jim left them with that.

To his surprise, Scotty was in the room, looking as exhausted as Jim felt. When Giotto arrived, he took one look at Spock and McCoy, and pulled his phaser, effectively dismissing his men. The look he gave Jim wasn't particularly friendly though.

"Put that fucking gun down." McCoy snarled. "You wanted us to listen, and we're here. So start explaining."

"You'll excuse me if I think you're going to lung across the table at me with a hypo." There was no humor in his words, a very telling thing.

Spock watched him, hiding the hurt and confusion he felt. What ever was happening, Jim hadn't told him last night. Worse, he honestly expected Spock would not listen to his reasons. It was clear he was stressed and tired, but that only proved more that Jim should have already been relying on him. He folded his arms behind his back, still considering the possibility of taking down the guard. While it may leave him injured, or stunned and unable to detain Jim, McCoy would be free to move around.

"I already mentioned Pike's message, but I didn't explain it to you…" Jim sighed, allowing himself to collapse into a chair, physical unable to hold himself up longer. "Starfleet sent seven scouts into the area after we informed them of the Cardassian ship."

He heard the gasp of alarm, telling him his crew already had some idea of where this was going. He continued.

"They were specially designed scouts, our stealth units, which is why they made it back at all. They found a small shipping of Klingons. It took a heavily modified scanner to find them, but they were just half an hour from the Cardassian ship. Scouts say it looks like they had been there a while, watching. When we shipped out, they followed for a couple hours, then withdrew back to Klingon space."

"They were watching the Cardassians die?" Uhura asked, confused that they wouldn't go in for the kill.

"No." Jim's tone was bitter. "We think they were watching them live." He didn't miss a beat at the confused looks. "They said there was a Klingon hanger ship with them, big enough to hold the Cardassian vessel."

"Why would they want it?" Giotto wrinkled his nose as he lowered his phaser, familiar with the low standards Cardassian ships had.

"We don't think they wanted the ship. We think they were there as a safety precaution." Jim sighed. "Commodore Stone's people found some suspicious things…Klingon things. The…"

Spock spoke up immediately, realizing Jim was having trouble saying it out loud. "Starfleet believes the Cardassians and the Klingons are working together."

"It's a possibility." Jim admitted. "One we can't talk about though."

"Why the hell not?" McCoy was shaking with rage.

"Because if they are, they attack. There would be nothing holding them back from doing so because what ever they're planning for, it would be a mute point. And if they aren't, the Cardassians hate us for such an accusation, and the Klingons hate us for insinuating they would work with anyone. Our relationship with the Cardassians is tense on a good day and the Klingons are itching for war. Either way you look at it, we get thrust into a war we aren't ready for." Jim answered patiently, his own fury muted by exhaustion.

"It would be logical to deduce what their intent is before presenting any such facts." Spock nodded once in understanding. "They are not yet aware of our knowledge of this, allowing us a greater tactical advantage."

"But we 'aven' the faintest idea what they be fixing to do." Scotty reminded.

"Actually." Jim interrupted. "I have a pretty good idea. And I told Pike as much."

"What, Jim?" McCoy frowned. "What do you think they're doing?"

"I suspect, in the next few days, the Cardassians will request peace talks." Jim answered grimly. "They've had ample time to prepare for an attack on the heads of the federation."

"Oh my god." Uhura whispered in horror.

"I've requested Pike put us on guard duty." Jim informed them. "Once we finish here, we'll patrol Federation headquarters and the surrounding space for a while. Another Captain and his crew is going to come on board during the talks to handle the Enterprise and continue patrols. Meanwhile…we'll be participating in peace talks and poison banquets, as an added measure on ground."

The entire room was silent, letting the horrors of what they'd just been told sink in. Everyone exchanged slow, troubled glances. Jim's eyes remained leveled on Spock and McCoy, just as determined, waiting for them to agree.

"I guess there isn't much arguing I can do." McCoy conceded.

"Captain." Spock's tone was indicative of a lecture, but Jim nodded to him anyway. "If the Cardassians do call for peace talks and they are a cover for violence, they may ask for them to be at a neutral location. Further more, it is likely they will have people working undercover to orchestrate the attack from inside, especially providing the Klingons do not maintain their part in the agreement."

"Alright. We'll keep that in mind." Jim said suspiciously.

"You should not be anything less than optimum in such a situation."

"I don't want to hear it. I-"

"You are not listening, Captain." Spock raised an eyebrow. "In the event of such an agreement, it would no doubt take extra time to approve a neutral location and prepare it for talks. If such is the case, you will rest until you are feeling optimum. Especially as we are likely to head to the neutral zone border to patrol until such time as they do ask for, and approve a location for, negotiations."

"You aren't giving me an option in this, are you?" Jim sighed, sinking further into his chair and wishing he could close his eyes and sleep a bit.

"No." Spock agreed.

The tension in the room lessened as Jim smiled at him, nodding. McCoy sighed, heading to the comm.

"Sickbay." He turned from it. "Scotty, am I going to need to do a work up on you too?"

"Aye, jus' once. I'll be getin' a night's rest and then back to work. Keenser will be taken 'er over while I rest." Scotty nodded firmly, earning an exasperated sigh.

"Sickbay here." Chapel answered. "What do you need Doctor?"

He sighed, sending a scathing look at Jim. "I need two pep shots delivered to the briefing room."

There was a long moment of silence and then: "Yes doctor."

"McCoy out." He turned back around, folding his arms over his chest. "I have one requirement Jim. I get to look you over before each pep shot, and I get to keep an eye on you for a few minutes after."

"Alright." Jim nodded. "Anything else?"

"You'll need to come in as soon as you feel it star to wear off, or you'll crash and subsequent shots will work even less."

"I'll keep that in mind." Jim considered it a moment, and decided he wasn't done. "I have one more thing."

"Why not?" McCoy scowled. "You've already proven you're a tyrant."

Jim rolled his eyes, glancing at Giotto. "You can't take a pep shot."

"You're not a doctor." McCoy answered immediately. "If I want to I-"

"Leonard." Jim said softly, earning full, quiet attention. "I will wake you up no matter what time it is if I need you, but I need you to rest. Of all people, I need you to be rested."

"You're killing me, Jimmy." McCoy sighed, shaking his head. "Fine, but I'm holding you to that. No one but me can administer pep shots and if I hear so much as a conspiracy to have anyone else do it, I'll tranquilize you."

"Good." Jim nodded, understanding.

"Doctor?" Chapel entered carrying two hypos extremely carefully.

He took one from her with a measure of annoyance, but administered it gently to Scotty. Instantly he looked more lively, if a little grey. Taking the other, he yanked on Jim's command shirt, listening to the satisfying sound of a seam popping. Jim glared at him, inspecting the rip in his collar as Bones stabbed him in the neck.

"That wasn't necessary." He mumbled as he stood, testing his weight under him.

He felt wonderful. He felt full enough of adrenalin that there wasn't much stiffness or pain, but his hands remained perfectly steady. Oh the wonders of modern medicine. He dismissed his crew back to work, warning them that this was the utmost secret of things and they couldn't even tell Sulu or Chekov yet. Immediately, Jim followed Scotty back to engineering, aware of the Vulcan tailing behind him. They instantaneously set to work on finishing a schedule to have the part they would need for their modifications finished by the time they reached Vulcan, and installed no more than two days later.

Part way through, Jim received a suspicious subspace message from an 'informant' friend, who mentioned Klingons getting anxious in the neutral zone. Spock suspected this man was a bartender at a space port meant for tolerance only. They were fairly uncommon, but he would not put it past Kirk to know someone working at one.

Once those plans were finished, Jim left Scotty to get the work started and retreated to a briefing room to pour over the Federation headquarters, familiarizing himself with the floor plan and every possible rout in or out to be watched. Spock took to conjuring up a list of other possible, neutral locations that the Cardassians might consider.

It was a long list.

Jim had him send it to the Admirals anyway, to look over.

And as soon as he had a plan of defense for the Federation headquarters, he sat down with Spock to pick the most likely places as alternatives and make plans for them. They were constantly being interrupted with updates on the projects Jim had in place over the course of the ship. Everyone knew, by now, that something was going to happen, no one had leaked information though, thankfully.

As soon as their shift ended, Sulu and Chekov came into the briefing room, asking how they could be of assistance. Spock informed them of the current events while Jim saw to a training module he had security working through. Sulu immediately headed to the labs to assist in prepping everything for the offload the next morning. Chekov headed to engineering.

"Eat something!" Rand yelled at him in exasperation.

"I don't have time." Jim countered.

And it was true. Every second he was either pouring over some document with Spock, filing the bare minimum paperwork necessary to prepare the ship for what was about to happen, or in correspondence with some member of Starfleet or another. Much of his time, actually, was taken up by the Captain who would be manning the Enterprise while they were planet side. Jim wasn't entirely thrilled to be handing it over, and was attempting to give the man an idea of what the ship would do for him with the modifications they employed.

The other Captain was frustrated at all the changes.

"Commander Spock!" Rand pleaded. "He'll collapse."

"Rand." Jim interrupted. "I'm on a pep shot right now."

They weren't exactly nutritional supplements, but they were designed to keep you going. She glowered at him to hide the concern in her eyes. He wasn't looking anyway.

Spock was beginning to understand how Jim had come to his calculations previously. There were a large number of tasks he simply could not defer, due both to the nature of the task and the secrecy of the project. With the addition of the neutral locations to consider, Jim _would_ have had more work than he could do were it not for Spock though. He had basically left him to his devices, allowing free reign in the area as he saw fit.

It was well into the night when a yawn cracked Jim's jaw open against his will. He grimaced, rubbing at his eyes and standing before it became too much trouble.

"Looks like I need to go catch Bones, think you can handle yourself in here?" Jim asked teasingly.

There was a wry look in Spock's eyes as he replied. "I will endeavor to do so, Captain."

He was positively exhausted by the time he dragged himself into Sickbay, where McCoy was waiting. Jim frowned as he was directed to sit on a bio bed.

"You knew it was going to wear off soon." He accused.

"I know this may come as a shock to you, but some things are down to an exact science." McCoy snorted, reading over the information provided. "Unfortunately you just seem tired, no stress on the organs yet, no signs of a mental break, nothing."

"Unfortunately?"

"If there were, I could stop you." McCoy reminded, loading the next pep shot.

"I know you don't like it." Jim sighed. "Just…about how long do you think this one will last?"

"I'd say about nine hours, but that could fluctuate. Remember now, you aren't likely to start feeling tired when this one wears off. You'll just get the sensation of a deep exhaustion hitting you all at once. That means you probably only have about twenty minutes until you collapse. So no dawdling."

"Alright. I'll keep an eye on myself." Jim nodded, accepting the shot with quiet resignation.

McCoy didn't bother voicing his concerns. Jim already knew what he was thinking of this whole situation and didn't need the added pressure of having it said out loud. McCoy watched for a moment as Jim's vitals steadied out, scowling the entire time.

"I'm going to sleep in my office. Come here when you need me."

"Alright Bones. I'll do that."

He was already on his communicator as he started out the door. Spock glanced up momentarily as Jim entered, before returning to the floor plans in front of him.

"Captain." He said, still looking down. "I have found five neutral locations that will be ideal to defend. Three of which the Cardassians are likely to suggest."

"Lay them on me." Jim said, sitting down.

"The three most likely to be selected are a newly announced neutral planet, Organia, a disputed m-class planet identified as Sherman's planet near the Klingon neutral zone, and Onais II."

"Onais II." Jim looked at him in surprise. "Isn't that just between the Romulan and Cardassian neutral zones?"

"Affirmative."

"Why would they choose that one? I think they'd pick Sherman's planet, probably, since it's near Klingons."

"I do not suspect they would be able to suggest it without exposing their relations to the Klingons as they have no claim on the planet." Spock informed him. "If they are working with Klingons, they will permit them entry through Cardassian space to the negotiation area."

"So is there any safe place?" Jim asked wearily.

"I believe, if they should offer it, we should choose Onais II."

"Didn't you just say they'd ship Klingons in?" Jim scowled.

"Affirmative." Spock looked up at him. "I believe that doing so would allow us to be better prepared for their attack. Also, there is a high likelihood that, if they feel more comfortable with the location, we could gain an advantage. They do not yet know we are aware of their possible dealings with the Klingons."

Jim's eyes widened, floor by that revelation. "You're a genius."

"Thank you, Captain." Spock fought down a smirk, barely succeeding.

"Seriously, Spock." Jim grinned. "Have you told the admirals this?"

"Affirmative." Spock nodded once in agreement. "They have yet to reply."

"Okay. We need to make an extra detailed plan for this one then."

"Would our time not be better spent continuing to make plans for all contingencies?"

"Spock, if you tell me this is where it's going down, I trust you." Jim felt himself smile. "Now quite wasting my time and help me get to work."

"Yes Captain." Spock's eyes danced in amusement.

It took a very short moment for them to decide they would have the most difficulty during the mingling ballroom event. The plans for defense during the actual meetings were deceptively simple. Onais II had been built on only minutely before it was abandoned as a possible colony. The temperatures were too erratic for any kind of cultivation and there were few places not often wracked by extensive, destructive earthquakes. In light of such, only one building was created, away from bodies of water and any form of fault line.

It was an impressive edifice, towering and wide, with ornate structures and beautiful archways. It was highly impractical, made of a natural crystal found on the planet. That was, however, the only structure that would not shake itself apart in the event of an earthquake, simply vibrate at a frequency claimed to be beautiful.

It had been built with stealthily hidden mechanics. The doorways were made with a strange force field, viscous to walk through, that solidified in the event of quakes. All the windows lead to balconies, so they too were covered in fields. It was, supposedly, a wonderful place to see, but not to stay for very long.

During the negotiations, Starfleet and Cardassian guards would stand point at the entrances to the upper courtyard, a wide, amphitheater like structure that would hold the delegates from the federation planets and the Cardassians. Additional Starfleet personnel would cover all possible entrances on that floor, as well as the staircases up, after the Cardassian were in place, and would vacate to more hidden positions when delegations were halted for the nights.

Three ships, including the Enterprise, could be in the atmosphere during delegations. A number of other ships would be in strategic points on the planet, hidden by the natural magnetic hotspots, ready to take off as soon as they were needed in a battle.

The nightly diner and dance however was going to be murder. Hopefully not for real. The use of balls as negotiation mixers was horrific. And decidedly Starfleet in nature. Jim felt like grumbling about not being a party planner, but that was far too Bones like for him, so he grit his teeth and decided to just do it. Of course, they needed to be the ones to plan it so they could find the most strategic placement of the damn food and refreshment table and the dance floor.

More Starfleet personnel would be able to be present at the mixer. As would more Cardassians. Jim was just about required to be there. He was discussing the use of certain personnel as plants though. He'd feel more comfortable if a few trained people pretended to simply be wealthy members of the federation mingling for a show of good-naturedness.

That started a debate with Spock about who of the crew should be approached for those jobs. Spock said security personnel would be the obvious choice. Jim said he wanted people with more tact. People who could handle diplomatic events.

They didn't realize how very early it had gotten until Jim's knees nearly gave out when he stood. Spock immediately gripped his arm, concern splayed through his eyes. Jim shook his head, standing up straight.

"I guess it's been nine hours. Go get something to eat while I'm getting a pep shot."

"Yes Captain." Spock stood, closing the files temporarily.

Jim stumbled a few times on his way down to Sickbay, and tripped through the door into a nurse. Specifically Chapel, who directed him to a bio bed and hurried off. Jim knew he was breathing a bit hard, but there wasn't much he could do for it. McCoy sprinted up almost immediately, tricorder in hand. Jim smiled wearily at him, and McCoy just about snarled in his direction.

"Still too healthy for your own good. You're absolutely exhausted. A little strain on your eyes…"

Jim groaned. "I can see just fine."

"Wear the glasses Jim. The pep shots are going to do a number on everything. You'll wear yourself out faster if you add extra strain."

"Okay. Okay. When I'm working on files I wear the stupid glasses." Jim didn't have the energy to blush. "Give me the damn shot."

"This'll only last about six hours."

"That isn't even close to half the day." Jim replied wearily. "Alpha shift starts soon. Or has it already started? Shit. My time's all off."

"You bet it is." He growled. "Try not to worry about it. Get back here in six hours. The next'll only last for about four hours."

"That's only four shots. How much shorter do they get?" Jim was trying to do the calculations in his mind, but without the pep shot he was running on vapors.

"About two hours for the next shot. An hour and fifteen minutes after that. Then it won't be worth it." McCoy shrugged, readying the hypo. "And that's an average."

"That isn't a full day." Jim scolded. "Not even close."

"Well, no, but that's as close as you'll get. It'll be only a few hours short."

"It's like six hours short Bones." Jim huffed. "I'm exhausted. Give me the shot."

"And here I thought I could talk you until you collapsed." Bones grumbled, stabbing him sharply.

Jim actually moaned in something akin to pleasure as pure energy surged through him. "You have no idea how much I love you right now."

"Hn." McCoy snorted, eyeing his vitals. "Your heart 's a bit fast. Might just be you getting excited."

"I'm all excited Bones." Jim purred playfully, foisting himself up to go.

"Because you're heading back to see that Vulcan of yours?"

Jim fell the rest of the way off the bio bed. It made an alarmed sound at his increased heart rate as he did. McCoy snorted knowingly, watching Jim flush.

"You're mean." Jim complained. "And I'm leaving."

"Fine." McCoy huffed. "Let me know if you have any chest pain. And I do mean any. And don't forget your glasses!"

"Okay." Jim called back, already sprinting out the door.

"Could you be a little more obvious?" Chapel leaned against the near wall, rolling her eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" McCoy grunted, cleaning up.

"His crush on Commander Spock." She stressed, earning an eye roll. "He's a sharp as a tribble."

"That's not something you should say about your Captain."

"But true." M'Benga called from across the room.

"You stay out of this you…you Vulcan sympathizer!" McCoy shouted at him.

The room broke out into laughter. McCoy threw up his hands in defeat, muttering about a mutinous crew and an oblivious Captain.

Jim paused on his was back long enough to find Keenser and see how it was going. They were all ready to go and Scotty would be up as soon as they landed. He was glad his crew could handle the offloading themselves, and hoped the Vulcan counsel wasn't too upset that he wouldn't see them for a few days. He had his work to finish, and then he was going to need to rest.

He entered the briefing room to see Spock poured over a PADD, eating from a plate of fruit. Jim nearly laughed, seeing his uptight First Officer actually eating finger food with his hands. He couldn't help but think of how bad an influence he was. Grinning madly, he walked over and plucked an apple slice from the pile. Spock hardly spared him a glance.

"Captain."

"Commander." Jim said in return, looking the apple over. "How does your fruit taste?"

"It is acceptable." Spock flicked his eyes up, a measure of impatience visible there.

Jim extended the fruit out to him in an offering, but pulled it back as soon as Spock reached for it. Said Vulcan very nearly rolled his eyes. Jim's grin widened.

"What?"

"Why do you insist on…teasing me?" He paused before the words, like he weren't sure of them.

Jim beamed at him, waving the fruit. "Because you started it."

"I am sure I have no idea to what you are alluding."

"Uh huh. Sure." Jim grinned, offering the fruit again.

Spock hesitated, before finally reaching out to take it from him. "We really should continue with our work, Captain."

"I know." Jim sat down, shrugging a little. "I just needed a break."

Spock fixed him with the Vulcan version of an exasperated look. Obviously he didn't agree with Jim's methods of amusement. Fortunately, he only did it three more times before honestly focusing on his work.

… … .. . .. … …

**Oh Jim you are so immature sometimes…**

**Pep shots are actually from another sci-fi series I'm a fan of: a series of books called Sector General. It's space medical drama, so if you're into that, you might look into them. Keep in mind that they were very loosely translated over for the sake of the fic though.**

**Not that they don't have a basis in several of the hypos McCoy has anyway…**

**Oh, and if your curious about Chapel's change in attitude, well, Uhura did have words with her…**


	31. Chapter 31

**Don't own. Don't want to own. Don't want profits. Just like writing.**

**I am so, so, _so_ sorry I didn't get this up yesterday. I was having internet problems...**

**In response to _pattylou ,_ I'm hoping for around forty/forty-two chapters in all. I'm not quite sure exactly how that's going to work out, but with what I have written already, it's pretty close.**

**So...uh...please enjoy this late update?**

… … .. . .. … …

Jim groaned, wondering briefly if it was time for him to pass out yet. It wasn't, because he had just visited Bones twenty minutes prior, but he really wished it was. He'd just finished the last of the work…and okay, yes, he had underestimated Spock a little. As Uhura stood staring him down, he really wished he could just go lie down already. Spock imagined he could understand Nyota's confusion.

They had just called her in after a brief discussion that ended with Spock's logical argument winning. Petulant, Jim folded his arms across his chest and sank a bit in his chair. The pep shots were taking their toll. Jim looked grey, drawn out and unnatural. McCoy had called him a walking corpse at one point. And yet his blue eyes were still lit with electric passion, highlighted by the thin wire frames and glasses that made them appear larger.

When Jim had first pulled them out, Spock found himself momentarily transfixed, shocked by the apparent openness in the other man. Jim explained his difficulties with corrective measures, and proceeded to act like there was nothing at all unusual with the intimate sight he was presenting.

Now, slumped in his seat with the glasses pushed back into his hair, he had a firm pout affixed in place. Uhura shook her head, placing her hands on her hips and shooting a look between the two.

"Let me get this straight. Neither of you can dance?"

"That is incorrect." Spock frowned ever so slightly. "I am, however, only familiar with a waltz, this being the one dance every known race has seemingly developed on their own. The reason for which being-"

"That doesn't matter." Uhura rolled her eyes, having heard all that in school before. "If you know how to waltz, why can't you teach Kirk yourself?"

"I would not be a suitable dance partner for him to practice with." Spock replied with something of a vocal shrug. "He also expressed interest in learning a traditional Cardassian dance. As you have often familiarized yourself with the song and dance of various cultures, I believed it expedient to defer to you in this matter."

She sighed, noting Jim's little scowl. "I seriously doubt Kirk wants dance lessons. However, if we're doing this, you're going through it too." She raised a hand when he made to reply. "It would be helpful to have one person dancing with him and the other watching for mistakes. And if he has to learn a traditional dance, you probably should too."

"I acknowledge that." Spock retorted stiffly, miffed at having been stopped. "I was simply about to inquire as to whether there are any other personnel you feel should engage in dancing lessons."

"Well, _most_ people know how to waltz." She shot Jim a mildly incredulous and disappointed look. "That should be enough, but we can offer lessons while in route to the neutral zone for anyone that would like them."

"Fantastic." Jim growled. "So should we get started?"

"Why are you upset?" She frowned, casting an accusatory look at Spock.

"I'm not." Jim lied. "I just can't believe he's making me learn to waltz."

"It is an integral part of diplomacy." Spock countered. "Dancing is often used as an alternative to war."

Jim rolled his eyes. Spock continued to lecture him as they made their way to an empty observation deck. By the time they reached it, Uhura was giving Jim commiserating looks of sympathy, wondering if they were like this the entire two days. Uhura shrugged herself loose, looking the two of them over a moment before a devious smile slid into place.

"Alright. Do you need a demonstration Captain?"

"No…" He furrowed his brow, trying to decipher her look. "I've seen plenty of waltzes. I've just never done it."

"Perfect." She gave Spock a wicked look. "Spock, take Kirk's hand."

"Pardon?" He straightened, glancing nervously at Jim, who was unhelpful in his gawking.

"You think you can honestly get away with that? There are plenty of societies where women lead their waltzes. Kirk's going to learn both steps."

"I do not see why this facilitates my dancing with him." Spock was a faint green.

"I can't lead well."

"Should you yourself not learn then?"

"I'm not the Captain or the Commander. I can sit dances out." She looked close to sticking her tongue out at him.

"It this really necessary right now?" Jim whined.

"It isn't that hard." Uhura told him.

With a modicum of grumbling, internally on Spock's part and vocally on Jim's, they started their lessons. Jim had no idea what he was doing, but he remembered what it looked like. While he was certainly no performer, he picked it up enough to be considered proficient. And he insisted moving his body just came naturally to him. Uhura made a face at that. Spock silently bore with it, continually reminding Jim that contact was necessary for dancing and he should stop removing his hands from his grasp because they lost time with each other when he did.

It was when they got to the traditional dance that Jim balked.

"I don't see what the problem is." Uhura frowned, scowling at him.

"I don't tango." Jim was practically seething.

"It isn't a tango…per say." She shrugged a little. "It was just the closest earth dance I could think to compare it to."

"You said there were aspects of three different dances in there, if you want to get technical." Jim shivered. "I wanted something easy."

"Well you're getting something impressive."

"I must agree with Jim. The combination of a tango, foxtrot, and rumba sounds distinctly disjointed and chaotic."

"Relax. The dance is at thirty-two bars per minute tempo. And it has _elements_ from those dance styles. If we're getting technical, it isn't even borrowing from any of those dances. It just has visual similarity to them in _certain_ steps." She pouted a moment. "Or do you think you can't do it?"

"Of course I can." Jim snapped. "But I am going to crash in about ten minutes. Clearly this is going to take a bit longer."

"It would be prudent to attempt these lessons at a later time, when Jim is not exhausted."

"Fine." She rolled her eyes. "Then I'm done here. Come get me when you're ready for your lessons again."

Jim sighed in relief when she left. "To be honest, I thought she was going to work me until I collapsed."

"I would not have allowed her to do so." Spock flicked a small smile in his direction.

Jim grinned. "I just rely on you for everything, don't I?"

"Your statement is statistically and factually inaccurate…" Spock straightened a little, ears going green. "I would not, however, protest if you were to do so."

Jim made to smile at him, but it fell short. He gulped sharply as he realized he was far too thrilled by that teasing admission. It made sense. Suddenly it all made sense. The teasing, the thrill of riling him up any way possible, the willingness to share in just a few weeks what it had taken years to tell Bones, the comfort he got from just being in his presence. The way he caught himself looking at him.

The revelation knocked the breath out of him, and Jim's knees nearly gave out. Spock immediately reached out to catch him, but Jim stumbled back, smiling warily.

"Sorry…I should go lay down now. My pep shot is wearing off. I'll see you when I get up?"

"Of course…" Spock watched him go with a measure of confusion.

Jim had pulled away from him, like that cornered animal again. It was nothing like the previous times though. There was no reason he could discern for his withdrawal, no action on either's part that fit with the typical pattern. Had he made some other, previously unknown transgression? Frustrated, Spock headed to his own quarters for meditation and sleep.

Jim was practically numb as he wandered into Sickbay. The cumulating of his exhaustion and his revelation left him distinctly cold. He knew he should be shocked, terrified, horrified. And yet he felt eerily calm, accepting. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why he was so damn at ease.

McCoy glanced up at him as he entered and directed him to a bio bed. Jim stumbled over, blinking wearily. With a snort, McCoy pulled the glasses that were still perched on Jim's head out of his tangled mess of hair. Jim laid down, curling up on his side, practically comatose in his actions.

"Get some rest." McCoy ordered, recording the data from the bio bed onto his PADD.

"Hm." Jim nodded wearily. "Hey Bones?"

"Yes Jim?"

"I have a crush on Spock."

McCoy looked up from where he was writing to see that Jim had succumb to sleep. He shook his head in exasperation, smiling in spite of himself. Jim _would_ say something like that so easily. With a sigh, he pulled a blanket up over the Captain and pulled the privacy curtain shut. The Sickbay was thankfully empty.

It was on a dull note that Bones realized he hadn't dropped his PADD.

… .. .

"The Captain made his desires quite clear."

Jim realized with a smirk that Spock and Bones were arguing. Ignoring them, he cuddled closer to his pillow. The bone deep exhaustion he had been feeling was gone, but a pleasant sleepiness was still lingering. He was a little surprised to be awake at all though.

"You can come back and wake him up in the morning." McCoy growled. "The extra hours will do him good, and there isn't much he can do tonight."

"He-"

"Spock." McCoy almost sounded patient, with was deeply concerning. "Do you want to go talk to him? See if he agrees with me?"

"I you do not wake him then-"

"He'll wake up…probably."

Jim sighed, swinging his legs out of the bed. He was really agreeing with Bones at the moment. He pulled the privacy curtain open and immediately met Spock's eyes. His heart fluttered a bit, earning a scowl. Spock immediately drew his brows together, worried it was directed at him.

"Have I disrupted you, Jim?"

McCoy turned around, giving Jim a hard look of disapproval. "You can lay back down."

"That's okay." Jim croaked out, voice strained in part from disuse. "What happened while I was asleep?"

McCoy sighed, throwing his hands up in defeat. Spock spared him a smug glance.

"The fungus affecting the crops has been treated. I have spoken with the counsel, and they wish to see you tomorrow. The Admiralty has agreed on the location we projected, though the Cardassians have made no move yet to propose negotiations. Lieutenant Uhura has taken it upon herself to teach the crew members how to waltz in their free time, if they are so disposed. She has not yet progressed to other forms of dance. Approximately one third of the modifications you requested are currently installed." Spock took a moment to consider if there were any other relevant facts before inclining his head to indicate he was done.

"It there anything I can do right now?" Jim asked plaintively.

Spock hesitated. "I do not believe there is any matter currently pressing enough to warrant your immediate presence."

"Have you gotten any sleep since I passed out?" Jim was using his Captain's tone.

"I have." Spock's eyes were filled with amusement.

"Are you planning on sleeping tonight?"

"Yes, Captain." Spock humored him.

"Good. Then I'm going to go back to bed, because I'm exhausted." Jim smiled at him.

Bones pumped his fist at the victory, and was ignored by both men.

"Very well Captain. I will see you in the morning."

"See you then, Spock." Jim grinned. "Good night."

"Good night Jim."

As soon as Spock disappeared through the doors, McCoy rounded on Jim with a look that boded ill. Groaning, Jim sat back down on his bed, allowing McCoy to close the curtain for a modicum of privacy.

"Can we forget what I said when I was last conscious?" Jim asked honestly.

"No." McCoy pulled up the seat by the bed, folding his arms over his chest. "I want to know what you're going to do about it."

"Do about it? Why would I do anything about it? I'll get over it." Jim shrugged. "It's unprofessional to act on it, not to mention how weird Spock would be around me. The only thing to do is to ignore it."

"That sounds like a stupid way of dealing with your problems." McCoy snorted. "What makes you so sure this is a crush, first of all?"

"I like being around him. I feel…really comfortable with him." Jim felt heat in his cheeks. "And I kind of thought about kissing him once."

"Did you?" McCoy's tone was somewhere between skeptical and amused.

"I think so…it was kind of a vague impression of a thought." Jim shrugged.

"You aren't attracted to men."

"Nope."

"Then…this is just a romantic thing?"

Jim pulled a face at that. "I don't know what this is. It doesn't make any sense to me."

McCoy sighed, rubbing at his face. "Why don't you go for it?"

Jim gaped at him a moment, trying to communicate through his silence how incredibly stupid that idea was. "Forgetting the previous reasons I listed, I can't handle something like this."

"When have you ever tried?" McCoy asked him honestly. "When have you even honestly felt like maybe you could have a real relationship?"

"I…I didn't say that."

"You like him. You don't want to have sex with him, apparently. Only other option is to date him without the physical additions."

Jim scowled, face a hot red. "I don't know what I want. Okay? And a relationship still wouldn't work right."

"Okay, fine. Answer this question then. How do you know you aren't attracted to men?"

Jim sputtered a bit. "I like women."

"That's not a valid argument." McCoy reminded him, rolling his eyes.

"I've never…" Jim started to panic, going pale. "Bones, you know…"

"That's my point." McCoy said softly, shaking his head. "You always equate guys with him. It's no wonder any thoughts of intimacy would panic you and be anything but arousing. But that's not to say you can't be interested in men, and for reasons other than a need for affirmation."

"I'm not…ready for that kind of thing with _women_, Bones." Jim's voice shook, the honesty almost too much.

"I know. I'm just saying…you've never been ready for something like this either." McCoy offered a wry smile. "It would be good for you. As much as it pains me to say it, the hobgoblin would be good for you. It's progress."

"I'm not going to use him." Jim snapped.

"Look, what you do in the end is your business. Just think about it though."

"I'm tired." Jim huffed, laying down and turning away from him. "I'll see you in the morning. Good night."

"Good night." McCoy sighed, shaking his head and letting himself out.

… .. .

Jim had lied to him. Or maybe it was a lie to himself. Technically it could be true.

He had 'kind of' thought about kissing Spock. But not a normal kiss. He didn't picture their tongues in each other's mouths, ungainly and sliding awkwardly around. He didn't picture biting at a soft green earlobe, or sharp, Vulcan teeth sinking into his collarbone. He didn't picture fast, fluttering kisses so quick as to draw his breath away and make his knees weak. He didn't picture the things he could do with his mouth…with _Spock's_ mouth.

He pictured two pairs of fingers pressed together, tentatively, embarrassed and hopeful.

He would be embarrassed to admit how much the Vulcan gesture appealed to him. Not because he was Vulcan, or he could feel his partner's emotions through his finger tips, or because he had a hand fetish. No. It was because it meant something. Touching, kissing, like he had done so many time before, was meaningless. How was he supposed to show genuine affection with something that had always been so hollow in his life? But that gesture…that gesture meant something to someone. Meant something good and not tainted by his past.

The thought had come unbidden, a momentary desire to express how genuinely, truly grateful he was for Spock's presence. A desire to show him how much he was coming to mean to him.

And that was a terrifying phrase if Jim had ever heard one.

The thought of expressing some kind of affection at all was more than a little off-putting. Mostly because he had no idea how Spock would take it. Would he understand? Would he get upset? Would he think Jim was insincere? All of those worries came flooding well after the fact. In the moment, he simply balked at any form of intimacy, innocent or not.

Curled up on his side, Jim sighed heavily, hoping it would alleviate the weight pressing down on him. It didn't. If anything, it just opened his lungs to fill with the heavy press of his thoughts. He felt a bit like he was drowning, pulled under by the worry consuming him.

How was he going to ever be able to face Spock with _this_ on his mind?

Tossing a bit to find a more comfortable position in the bio bed, Jim considered briefly that he was a glutton for pain. He just hope that, if Spock ever did find out, he let him down easy and tried to spare his feeling a bit…but he honestly wasn't going to count on it. It would be better for Kirk to just break his own heart, fast, like a bandage getting ripped off, before he could actually get attached.

That's what he kept telling himself as he drifted off. That he'd never have something like he'd heard about in fairytales, especially not with Spock. That it was weird to even want it. That it was over, before it began. And for a little while, he convinced himself that he could do this.

… .. .

Jim didn't swear, because that wasn't something good Captains did in front of their crew, but he did shoot a look at Giotto that would send lesser men scurrying in possibly bladder evacuating fright. Giotto just grimaced, shrugging a little. Jim froze in the middle of the hall, causing some poor ensign to run into a wall dodging him.

"What do you mean they can't _find_ nearly a sixth of the phasers and one tenth of the photon grenades?"

"I mean we were doing inventory and there's a good chance some of our younger members forgot to sign out the equipment."

"Find out who's _quarters_ are armed with MY ship's equipment and skin them." Jim's acidic tone sent some of the more timid members of his ship scurrying away from him. "And tell them if it happens again they won't end up in the brig, they'll be transferred. I don't have time for people who don't understand basic, _preschool_ procedure. Am I clear?"

"Clear." Giotto gulped, looking a bit pale.

"So don't just stand there! Get on it!" Jim snapped, turning on his heel to continue where he was headed.

Giotto scrambled to do as he was told. Jim stormed towards engineering, muttering some of the more exotic curses under his breath. At the very least, he could probably get a sandwich for breakfast while he was griping at Scotty. Breakfast, which should have been two hours ago. But no. Since he'd woken up bright and early, he'd been swamped with requests, information, and generally confused personnel that didn't know why everything was going to hell in a hand basket, but that it was.

If he were honest, he would admit he was surprised at how well things were going.

"Captain."

Jim's heart nearly leapt into his throat, a giddy little feeling propelling it as his first officer fell into an opposite step with him. He'd have been worried about his reaction, but he had far more important things to worry about.

"Spock." Jim resisted the urge to wet his lips and glance over at the other man in nervousness. "Has it been this ridiculous since I passed out?"

"No. Simply since you have woken up."

Jim choked out a laugh, finally glancing at Spock. Their was the faintest hint of amused smugness on his face, masked easily by professionalism. Jim made a meek effort to tamp down on the weird affection filling his chest. It was hard to argue against it when it was so damn warm and comfortable.

"When do I have to be planet side to meet with the council?"

"They request your presence shortly after lunch. I feel it would be most beneficial if I were to join you." Spock's hands were folded behind his back, looking completely casual in his request.

"Sure." Jim shrugged.

Spock's eyebrow shot up. Jim snorted, shaking his head.

"What? I can agree with you sometimes." He rolled his eyes, ducking a low hanging pipe. "I don't know the first thing about the council, or what I'm supposed to be doing. Why do they even want to talk with me?"

"I suspect it has something to do with your haste in arriving and the assistance you and your crew have provided."

"We." Jim slowed, glancing around to find Scotty.

"Pardon?"

Jim peered over it Spock, catching the way his head was cocked to the side, both eyebrows raised ever so slightly. "We. And our. It's our crew, and it's us. We did this together."

"Our crew." The corner of Spock's lip twitched in amusement.

Jim had a sinking moment where he desperately wanted to press the tips of his fingers to it. Feeling a little out of his depth, he returned to his search for Scotty. His head was swimming with the thought of what he'd just considered. This was going to get a lot more complicated if he couldn't keep those thoughts out of his head.

"Scotty." Jim sprinted away from Spock when he caught sight of his favorite engineer.

Spock closed his eyes for a moment instead of rolling his eyes before walking quickly after him. Scotty looked up at the two from where he was working at a console.

"Aye Cap'n. Good ta see ye up and aboot." Scotty glanced back down to where he was working, typing a few things in. "Ah'm jus' working on the mix formula. With the changes ta the engines, Ah feel more comfortable with a little closer margin o' error."

"Good man." Jim clapped him on the shoulder. "You're department is just about the only I don't have to yell at. But I _need_ you to get the transporter modification in _now_."

"Ah'm getting to it." Scotty glared over at him.

"Don't 'get to it'. Get it done now. I'm serious. I've got a feeling I'm going to need it." Jim fixed him with his captain's voice, trying to stress the importance of it.

"Cap'n! It's half engineering an' half programming! Ah'll get men on it as soon as Ah can!" Scotty growled, fixing him with a disparaging look. "I can'naught spare anyone jus' yet. We've got everyone working on the shields or the engines."

Jim huffed in frustration. "Fine. Give me a tool belt. I'll get started on it."

"Ye aren't expecting at do all the programming an' tinkering on ye own, are ye?" Scotty looked aghast, though he was once again staring down at the console.

"If I have to, yes."

"I will provide the Captain with any assistance possible." Spock added quickly, getting a grateful glance from Kirk.

"If tha's what ye want Cap'n…Try to put 'er back in workin' order before ye leave though. We can'naught afford to 'ave any part o' her down for any period of time."

"I've got time to work." Jim agreed, "I'll make sure she's at least functional by the time I have to go planet side."

… .. .

Jim hadn't bothered to get breakfast. It probably wasn't the best decision when he was crouched by an open panel, trying to focus on the wiring inside. Spock was at the console, re-programming it and voicing his complaints every few minutes.

Right on time. "Captain, I must advise against this modification."

"You already said that." Jim reminded him, yanking his hand back as a spark seared his finger.

He was sure if he looked up, Spock would be giving him that 'you're an idiot' look. "As you have not yet listened to me, I felt it prudent to repeat myself."

"I listened, and then I disregarded it." Jim nodded his head absently, sucking on his finger as he eyed the wires.

"Jim…" His tone held a hint of disapproval.

"Spock. Seriously. I know the circuits could overload. That's why I'm working on them. Just program it so the delay isn't in there anymore. If I need to beam a bunch of people up fast, I don't want half of them dieing because my transporters need a cool down period between beamings."

"Not only could the circuitry be damaged, making the transporter inoperable, but people could be injured from a malfunctioning transporter."

"If you aren't going to do it, leave." Jim half snarled.

Spock blinked at him, brows knit together since he knew he couldn't see him. "I am doing as you requested. I simply wish you to understand the full ramifications of what you are requesting."

"I know, Spock." Jim sighed, resting his forehead against the wall. "I know. Believe me."

He looked up with a start when a warm hand fell on his shoulder. Spock was standing over him, looking down in what could almost be called an understanding look. It was a conscious effort for Jim's breath not to hitch. And he'd been doing so well, too, not even thinking about Spock as more than a colleague. Instead, he allowed himself to lean into Spock's warm grasp, just a touch. That, at least, wasn't inappropriate.

"We have work to do." Jim reminded him.

"Of course." Spock withdrew his hand, placing them both behind his back as he returned to the console.

His heart was thumping rapidly in his side. He hadn't been sure, for a split second, if he was in the right. Jim had looked so relieved though, reaffirming his decision. He felt accomplished, pleased to have been some help to Jim. It was…gratifying to see he had satisfied Jim. And he couldn't allow himself to be distracted by something so simple.

Jim gave him a warm smile as he returned to reprogramming.

It was a scant few hours later that a technician came in to find his commanding officers seated on the transporter together, cross-legged in front of a panel, arguing over the arrangement of wires.

"I'm telling you, if we add an extra wire to the relay in case of an overload, it'll function as a backup circuit."

"While that is true, it is more prudent to prevent an overload in the first place. Further more, a second wire would prove fruitless without the necessary insulation."

"It'll have insulation!"

"Your proposal does not leave enough room for the necessary thickness to prevent damage to the other wires in the event of a catastrophic overload."

"Why you-"

"Captain, Commander." The technician interrupted. "I was told to come here to beam you down to the planet…"

"Of course." Jim muttered, fixing the last few wires, without making either of their modifications, and returning the panel to where it belonged. "Have this tool belt returned to Mr. Scott, in engineering."

"Yes sir." The technician put it aside. "Are you ready to beam?"

"Just a sec." Jim made a quick attempt to straighten his shirt. "How do I look?"

"I believe your preferred descriptor is attractive?" Spock's tone was just a bit humorous.

Jim flushed deeply. "Uh…q-quit making fun of me."

"I made no attempt to 'make fun of you' Captain." Spock was actually keeping a perfectly level face, of which Jim was envious. "I was merely attempting to expedite the matter by appealing to your vanity."

Jim hung his head a bit, blush threatening to overtake his face. "Don't patronize me Spock."

"Of course, Captain."

And the fact that he hadn't denied that said everything. The tech watched them for a bit, utter confusion on his face before staring down at the console in confusion. It provided no answers for him.

"Uh…If I may…" Both of them glanced sharply at him, like they'd forgotten he existed. "You both look fine?"

Jim rolled his eyes, but managed to reign in his little emotional moment. "Okay. Energize."

The consulate building materialized around him, a grand representation of the strength of Vulcans in the face of everything they had lost. The high walls were a yellow-red, beautiful, traditional stone style in accompaniment to metal and clear aluminum. It was high reaching, towering impossibly up from where he stood, taller even than the previous one, if he recalled the specs correctly. Nero had struck them down, so the Vulcans decided to make themselves an even greater presence.

The construction left him awed and terrified, feeling so small and insignificant in the light of things.

"It's good to see you again, Jim."

Jim turned around to see the older Spock smiling affectionately at them.

"You are such a liar."

… … .. . .. … …

**So Jim's starting to figure it out. Wanna bet how little this helps him? I've got plenty more to get into, so don't expect this to be over soon.**

**Oh, and my idea of a Cardassian folk dance is total crack.**


	32. Chapter 32

**Don't own.**

**Thanks to all my readers, I love you lots.**

… … .. . .. … …

The elder Spock quirked an eyebrow at him. The younger fixed a minutely narrowed look on his elder self. Jim folded his arms angrily, looking between the two of them, waiting for an explanation.

"Aw, I did not lie." The elder lifted his lips in an approximation of a smile.

"You totally did." Jim huffed, glancing at the younger counterpart.

Spock, the young one, looked less than pleased. "I believe I have already stated my agreement with the Captain's opinion."

"And why didn't you tell me?" Jim glared at him.

"At what time would this have been an appropriate or relevant conversation?"

"What is done is done." The elder interrupted, like so many authority figures are wont to do. "I am, at current, known as council member Selek."

"Indeed?" Spock lifted a condescending eyebrow.

"Okay, Selek." Jim snorted, somewhere between amused and exhausted. "Do we have somewhere we need to be?"

"Yes. I will direct you to the council now." 'Selek' turned on his heel to head down a long hall.

Behind him, Jim and Spock fell into their opposite step. Jim leaned a little closer, making sure he could whisper and barely be heard by the man next to him, let alone the elder to his front.

"Why didn't you tell me he was here, at least?"

"I was unaware myself." Spock admitted. "He had not made his presence known to me yesterday."

"Great, sneaky bastard."

"Captain-"

"Not you." Jim rolled his eyes, catching the disapproval and momentary sting in that word.

Spock's brow bowed in. "He and I are, essentially, the same."

"No, you're not." Jim frowned, stopping.

Spock stopped with him. A few steps ahead, the elder stopped as well, turning to watch them with an amused little smile. They were so very like he and his Captain, discussing their circumstances together. Spock began to protest, and Jim shook his head.

"Genetically, okay. You're the same. And maybe you have a few memories in common, but he's had an entirely different life than you. I mean, even if he wasn't older than you, with a whole lifetime of memories and a background that has affected how he thinks, he's from a different place entirely. Who knows what did and didn't happen in that universe that occurred here?" Jim had managed to conduct his entire rant in a super whisper, which suddenly seemed incredibly ridiculous to him.

Spock was floored by the seriousness with which Jim spoke. His insistence was heartening, oddly comforting. Spock was not entirely sure why he wished to distance himself so greatly from his counterpart, but Jim had done so easily.

"You argument is logical." Spock agreed tensely, voice a little hoarse, and far louder than he intended.

"Good." Jim beamed, slapping him on the shoulder.

Selek/Spock gave them an amused, patient look. Immediately they started walking again, Jim offering a quick apology. He missed to momentary look of confused shock on the elder's face. They fell in opposite steps. It was a momentary curiosity. He and his captain had always walked in step, at time with each other, and in sync. And yet these young men were such perfect opposites.

Jim took in a deep breath as they entered the council room. It was adorned with marvelous, towering statues half finished and tapestries who's placement were ill conceived, but fixed until the construction was done. It was still half open into the desert, exposing the sheer heat of the planet. Jim was breathless, though, from the view. The temporarily open room was at the edge of a precipice, a wide, searing desert canyon open as far as the eye could see.

Jim took a wordless step forward, peering out at it in a daze. He was oblivious to the present Vulcans watching him approach the open wall patiently. Spock followed a few terse steps behind. His mind was elsewhere though, focused on the spicy heat wafting on the slightest hint of a breeze. It wasn't quite right, something nagging in the back of Jim's mind. Something he couldn't focus on.

The edge was so close now, that mysterious expanse so close. So close he could reach out to it. He closed his eyes, ears roaring with blood. There was nothing below his next step, and he could already fill the air rushing up to greet him, ready to wrap around him and draw him where it would.

A hot arm snapped around his waist and he felt himself jerk back. The air rushed from his lungs and his eyes popped open. The desert fell back from him with dizzying rapidity. He was rather suddenly standing a fair distance from the edge, a warm, hard body at his back, the arm around his waist pressing him tight against his first officer.

Jim squeaked in alarm and made to push Spock's arm away, but he held fast. He could hear voices raised ever so slightly in alarm and an old hand pressed down on his shoulder. He looked up to see the elder Spock watching him in blatant fear.

"I'm fine." Jim answered some question or another directed at him. "Let go."

Spock _growled_ in his ear, a harsh sound. "I do not presume to understand your actions, but you would do well not to place yourself in unnecessary danger."

Jim gulped, feeling hot and cold all at once. He had been about to walk off the edge, hadn't he? And Spock…Spock was still holding him, his breath even hot puffs on his neck. It was so nearly shattering, so very distracting.

Spock had allowed for Jim's natural curiosity as he approached the edge, knowing he would want to see as much of the planet as he could. Jim wouldn't stop, though. He kept walking steadily closer to the edge. Spock felt near panic bubbling up, and tried to suppress it, telling himself Jim was in front of the council, and would not do something reckless.

When he watched Jim take that last step, he lunged for him, shouting his name in alarm. From the corner of his eye, he saw his outburst had raised alarms in the elder Vulcans. He did not know how he had wrapped his arm around his waist, but he pulled back as soon as he felt the other man's weight in his grasp. Jim's body was minutely colder, even through his uniform.

It took a moment's restraint not to bury his face in the crook of Jim's neck and assure himself of the pulse there. He knew his words to Jim held undue emotion, that he should release him, that he should do something, anything, that stopped his ridiculous show of feeling.

His eyes met his father's over Jim's shoulder and he stepped back swiftly, placing his hands behind his back so as not to reach out when Jim stumbled from the lack of his presence.

"I'm fine, really." Jim repeated, wrapping his arms around himself.

"What…" On old woman came forward, earning the silent attention of everyone present. "Was the motivation for your actions?"

"I…I don't know." Jim mumbled awkwardly, glancing back at Spock for help. "I was…distracted."

"Indeed." She flicked her gaze from him to Spock, who came forward immediately. "You would do well to keep him close if he is to behave so recklessly."

Spock bowed his head to her. "Yes grandmother."

Jim glanced quickly between them, and then at 'Selek' and Sarek. He knew Spock was using the term to denote the head of his family, but the idea that this frail, imposing woman was one who earned even Spock's shaken respect was a daunting moment.

And all at once his pride kicked back in. "I don't need a babysitter. With all due respect."

The gathered council all shot him varied, muted looks of skepticism. Jim gave them a moment to disapprove before bowing his head politely.

"I believe we had things to discuss?" He flicked his eyes back up to them, calling them silently on their further waste of time.

The next hour was spent attempting to be blunt while still dancing around anything overtly helpful. It was incredibly frustrating, being given just enough information to know he was missing something relevant. Things were being laid out for him without some of the bigger details being mentioned. Very important details, as he found in some cases. Jim left feeling more annoyed than he had in some time. Both Spocks were walking with him as he left, one keeping a quick pace with him, the other walking in a strangely off step, his footfalls falling independently of their own.

"That was the single most useless attempt at a meeting I've seen, and I work for Starfleet." Jim snarled at the elder.

"Indeed, I have found that the Vulcan high council can often be unnecessarily wordy and imprecise." The elder dare to chuckle a little. "The reluctance of my people to share sometimes vital details has caused some trouble in the past."

"An understandable occurrence." Spock inclined his head in agreement.

"I recall a time I was nearly forced to kill Jim due to T'Pau's reluctance to share information with him." He said easily, like it were something you say everyday.

Jim and the younger Spock stopped on a dime, fixing him with inscrutable looks. He turned to them as they stopped, raising an eyebrow.

"Should we get this information out of the way soon so that doesn't happen?" Jim asked nervously.

The younger Spock's eyes were set in a firm scowl. "I can think of no logical time when this would be the case."

"Can you not?" Selek was amused, and also ignoring Jim's question. "He was there for my kal-if-fee with T'Pring."

Jim's stomach was so busy bottoming out that he missed the wide-eyed look Spock shot his alternate self. Spock…married. Oh damn. This was not unentirely like the panic attack he had when he though Spock had proposed to Uhura. Just how long had he been having these stupid feelings? Or was he right the first time, and this clenching sensation in his chest was just a throwback of that?

But wait…he had said he was there for his kal-if-fee…so he didn't marry T'Pring in that time either?

"I am to have no kal-if-fee over T'Pring. She is mated with Stonn. Nor would I desire to have her." If the younger sounded a little haughty, it was to cover the extreme nervousness in his voice.

"Indeed? That is fortunate. She was clever in my time and, as I was unable to explain the dangers to him, convinced my captain to duel me."

Jim watched the younger straighten immensely, spine drawing taut like a cord. The elder watched too, waiting an exceptional time before continuing.

"It was Leonard McCoy's intuitive thinking that save both our lives." He added carelessly. "Would you perhaps like a tour of the city?"

Seeing that neither of them was about the speak again, Jim took it upon himself to make the air less tense. "That sounds great, actually."

And it was, for a while. The city was beautiful and both Vulcans reminisced about how it was being constructed in a similar manner to the former Capital. There was apparently a zoo…wildlife preserve…place where the remnants of the animals of Vulcan were being bred and acclimated to their new world. Again, both of them insisted it would be a bad idea to go.

Jim suspected he knew exactly why. After having nearly stepped off a cliff, he couldn't exactly disagree with them.

"Captain!" A young, female voice startled all three of them.

Jim immediately recognized the girl who had been siding with him through the entire class. A quick glance assured there were no other children in sight.

"Hello again." Jim knelt down to her level, earning similar looks of exasperation from all three present Vulcans.

"I wish to apologize for my betrothed's previous behavior." She said primly, eyeing the elder with him.

"Don't worry about it." Jim grinned. "He just needs time and experience. He'll realize there's more to the universe than Vulcans."

She gave an immature huff. "It would be much more agreeable to be bonded to one such as yourself."

Jim's eyes widened in alarm and he stood up quickly. Spock had taken a proactive step forward, fully aware of the meaning of her statement. The elder Spock just looked amused, waiting to see how it all played out. She tilted her head to the side, making a show of surveying him, considering something. Finally, the corners of her lips turned up into something of a smile.

"Would you fight for me, Captain?"

"That's not a good idea." Jim said quickly, looking, fruitlessly, to the men with him for some help.

"I do not see why. You are intelligent, strong, a person of acclaim and power who would be welcomed into my family, and more attractive, physically and mentally, than my betrothed."

"You're a kid!"

"I will not be by the time I am of age." She reminded him logically, giving him a look that stated he was willfully ignoring the obvious. "The difference between our ages will not be undue. Even now my brother has requested to be bonded with one of your crew half his age."

"Wait…what?" Jim glanced as Spock, who's face spoke of sudden recognition.

"Forgive me, Captain, I had not spoke to you of this development due to more pressing issues. In working together, a close relationship was formed between one of our junior crewmembers and a member of the Vulcan research team."

"Who?"

"I believe you were acquainted with the female ensign who assisted Ensign Lynn in the…scientific discovery of a particularly fascinating moss specimen?"

It took Jim a moment to realize Spock was talking about the damn shackle moss, which was still classified. Then he remembered the insubordinate girl. He'd eventually had a talk with her. She had been so upset about what she said, Jim had to calm her down. She really was a good girl, who had just lost many of her friends and really wasn't at all ready for space. But she couldn't say no to the opportunity he had provided. And, like some other cadets, on the Enterprise and not, she had moments of blaming Kirk for not realizing sooner and saving the entire fleet. Moments where, no matter how much she respected him, she couldn't see him as a Captain.

Jim had admitted to her that sometimes he had to stare down at the bands on his cuffs to remind himself he was a captain too.

When she stopped crying and apologizing, he asked her if she wanted a transfer. She said she would stick it out for a year, at least. Not him, but space. And there as no better place to do that, in her opinion, than with him as Captain. Gratified, and on better terms, they had left it at that.

He hadn't realized she had fallen for a Vulcan scientist.

"Did the council approve to have her here as a representative, or is she resigning from Starfleet?"

"A representative, for the time being. Her presence is most welcome." Spock noted, a touch of coldness holding the reminder that his mother had not been.

Jim gave him an understanding look. Amanda had struggled her entire life to be accepted on Vulcan, as had Spock. Now, the Vulcan race was coming to realize they had secluded themselves too much in the effort to preserve their culture, to the point of stagnation, harming it. They were willing to slowly, but surely, disseminate information to the rest of the Federation and welcome its members with stilted salutes. And that, apparently, also came with the stunned realization that they were an endangered species that could never hope to refill their own ranks without some outside help.

Sure, they'd try to breed out the illogical DNA as quickly as possible, and keep it to a minimum, but there were so few members that attempting to increase population without at least some outside DNA would likely cause numerous genetic problems.

Jim had actually read the medical report sitting on Bones' desk.

"Ah-hem." The momentarily forgotten girl called their attention back. "So you approve of my brothers liaison with your crew member?"

"Yeah." Jim answered immediately.

"Then I do not see why our own bonding would not receive similar approval."

Finally, Spock took pity on him and interrupted her argument. "Neither your brother, nor the ensign to whom he is to be bonded are promised to another or bonded. Your brother informed me of his lost bond mate."

"I have the right to ask a challenger of my betrothed."

"But not of the Captain's." 'Selek' interrupted.

Jim and Spock both cast him momentarily confused looks, before noting the stunned expression on her face.

"I had not considered that. The Captain is of a mating age in his society. It would be logical for him to already be bonded." She hung her head. "Forgive me. I have overstepped my bounds."

"Hey." Jim tried to sound mildly comforting without being encouraging. "You're still young. You may learn to really like your fiancé. And if you don't, you can challenge your betrothal to him once you're an adult."

"I hope you are correct." She replied softly, and then, in an obvious attempt to leave and lessen her discomfort: "I must depart. I have studies to attend to."

"It was nice meeting you." Jim told her, making a bastardized attempt at a Vulcan salute.

"And you as well, Captain." She saluted him, then ran off.

"So what was that about?" Jim narrowed his eyes, glaring at the elder Spock.

"It was simply the most logical argument. She was unlikely to see much reason otherwise, as she is still young. Shall we continue?" Even as he asked, he was turning and walking again.

"I'm not bonded to anyone…or married…or anything like that." Jim told him firmly, as if he had some need to reassure everyone present that he was not in a serious relationship, or any relationship for that matter.

"That is unsurprising." Selek told him. "My own Captain did not 'settle down' until he was much older."

"This is weird." Jim announced. "I really don't want to talk about hypothetical future alternate me."

"Ah, yes. Forgive me. It is sometimes difficult to reconcile you with the man I once new. Though you are undoubtedly him, it is as though you are more a distant relative, like a son or grandchild." The elder Spock watched him closely, noting also how his younger self tensed at those last few words.

"I'm never having kids."

"Truly? You did not hold the same vehemence in my time."

Jim sent him a haggard glare. "Obviously I'm not the same guy. Now can we drop this and get back to the tour, or do you want to reminisce some more about someone who's probably been long dead for you?"

The elder raised both eyebrows at the sharp tone, simply nodding his head once he had adjusted to the sudden anger directed at him. The remainder of the tour was silent except for the quick explanations provided and quicker questions asked. If there was a touch of guilt at his words, the young captain made no mention of it. Jim didn't speak again until his communicator went off.

"Kirk here."

"You're needed back on the ship, Captain." Uhura's voice filtered through. "And Scotty told me to tell you he had the transporter finished."

"Alright, I'll beam up in a second. Kirk out." Jim snapped the communicator shut, and turned to both Spocks. "I guess this is goodbye then…Selek."

"Indeed. You are welcome on Vulcan whenever you please."

Jim turned to the younger one. "Are you going to stay for a little while longer, or are you beaming up with me?"

"It would be most productive for me to return to the ship." Spock nodded to him. "Please pass on my sentiments to the council."

"Of course." And with a quick salute, he disappeared.

Protocol insisted they be back at the consulate building for beaming, so they wouldn't interfere with any technology being used elsewhere. It was starting to approach dusk, though the sun was still hot on the ground. Most of the streets were empty, letting Jim wander back with his first officer in a comfortable silence.

He'd almost managed to forget about the awkwardness of his crush on the other man. But in the strange heat of the twilight hours, he was acutely aware of the distance between them. Distance that had been nonexistent a few hours ago. He felt himself heat up at the though of what had happened. He really didn't know why he had walked off the edge like that, simply reaching for something he couldn't find.

He had felt grounded in Spock's arms though, not as afraid as he should have been. He could still picture it, the feel of Spock pressed entirely too close, his whole body braced against him. It should have been terrifying, but he kept dwelling on the memory, replaying it, clinging to it like a well worn photograph that would be lost if it were set down. He wanted to be concerned that he was letting himself go overboard, but he wasn't sure he was. There was nothing he could do about their relationship, yes, but that was no reason not to treasure the little moments that made him feel accepted…wanted.

"Captain, Spock."

Jim nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw T'Pring and Stonn waiting for them in the middle of the building. Judging by the slight stiffness in Spock's gait as they continued forward, he had been caught off guard too.

"We must depart." Spock told them quickly, hoping it would be enough to get them to leave.

"I wish to speak with you a moment, Spock." Stonn inclined his head politely. "I will be quick."

"Very well." Spock agreed tersely, and followed him a short distance off.

Jim gulped, glancing at T'Pring nervously. "Uh…hi."

"Hello." Her eyes were lidded with amusement. "You are well?"

"Yeah…you?"

"I am." She glanced a moment at Stonn and Spock. "I am most fortunate to have met you, Captain Kirk. If only it could have been on better terms."

"As far as first impressions go, that was one of my finer." Jim admitted with a shrug.

Her eyes widened and she pressed her lips tighter together. Jim realized she was reigning in laughter and grinned devilishly at her. When the moment passed, her eyes were still a little wide with mirth.

"It is most fortunate that you have not had many first encounters than."

"I figure someday this can be added to a pile of worse first impressions ever." Jim still had that goofy grin on his face. "Maybe then we can try it again."

"One is only capable of-" She cut herself off as Jim shook his head a little. "You are being facetious?"

"Or something like that." He admitted. "I think I'm actually glad I got to meet you. It's a shame we didn't have longer to get to know each other. We could have been pretty good friends."

"Friends…" T'Pring tilted her head to the side. "I would…like that. Perhaps another time."

"I'm going to hold you to that."

Across the room, Spock stopped in a position to keep an eye on his captain. Stonn noted this with some interest, standing to regard his bonded and the blond man, rather than Spock.

"Your shields are more satisfactory." He stated with no preamble.

"They are…"

"But?"

Spock nearly sighed. "My shields are once again at levels comparable to before the destruction of Vulcan on all but one account."

"Your Captain."

Spock shot him an accusing look. "You were aware of this?"

"It was a possibility known to me, yes." Stonn placed his hands at his back. "One is often weak to the object of their fancy."

"Pardon?" Spock knit his brow together.

Had Stonn just implied…?

"He fascinates you, as do his emotions." He explained easily, a half truth. "It is unsurprising that you should find yourself inquisitive to his nature."

"Is this what you wished to discuss with me?" Spock asked defensively.

"It is not." Stonn agreed. "Simply a secondary matter to address. I wished to apologize for my previous behavior."

"You have already done so."

"And yet I still find more for which I should apologize." Stonn tilted his head to the side. "I have been most unaccepting of your situation."

"And yet if it were not for my treatment, I would not have joined Starfleet." He was beginning to realize that something very good had come from his past.

"Indeed." Stonn glanced over at him. "And were you still promised to T'Pring, you would not have the chance to bond as humans do."

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him, wondering at the relevance of that statement. Stonn simply cocked his head forward in a semblance of a nod, not so deep as to obscure his vision. More confused than before, Spock followed his line of sight, to where Jim was grinning at T'Pring, shaking his head.

"We should not keep them waiting longer." Stonn told him, and started forward.

Spock trailed after him, still momentarily lost. As they approached, Jim asked if their conversation was 'fun'. Spock began to lecture him on the accuracy and implication of that statement. He paused only to bid the two goodbye, before returning to his discussion. Jim gave him a lopsided grin, shaking his head as he flipped his communicator open.

"Kirk to Enterprise."

"Enterprise here." A tech in the transporter room replied.

"Beam us up."

… .. .

It happened that what he was needed back on board for was dealing with a myriad of small, infuriating arguments. Some security officers wanted the training rooms for their scenarios, and were fighting with another team. One group of engineers wanted to reinforce every bit of circuitry with better insulation and cascade blocks. Another wanted to add more wires so they'd keep working if they did have problems. Jim left that one to Scotty. And so many other issues cropped up that Jim was starting to wonder what his department heads were for.

Jim found a quiet moment to collapse in one of the observation rooms. He missed Spock entering, having just finished with several problems of his own. Spock had watched him head into the room and followed. He felt his lips twitch up into the barest of a smile seeing Jim sprawled across the couch.

"Jim." Spock watched him leap up in alarm, quirking his brow at the action.

Jim struggled with an admonishing look, fighting down his silly grin. "Who said you could sneak up on me?"

"I was unaware I needed permission to 'sneak up on you'. Would alerting you, were that my intent, not have proven counterproductive?" Spock's eyes danced with laughter.

Jim doubled up with it. He fell back onto the couch, still chuckling, waving Spock over. Spock obliged him, feeling a strange wave of warm emotion as he gazed down at him. He clung to that emotion, trying to identify it before it slipped away, curious.

"This has been a long day." Jim sighed. "We'll probably leave tomorrow night or the morning after."

"Indeed." Spock said hesitantly, still turning the emotion over in his head.

"Something wrong?" Jim sat up, a look of worry on his face.

"No." Spock wasn't lying.

Nothing _was_ wrong. It was just…difficult to focus. The emotion seemed so far away, distant, different. Familiar, yet different. Jim eyed him suspiciously a moment before conceding with a sigh that he was getting nowhere.

"It's weird." Jim started, knowing he was getting the eyebrow raise without even looking. "I…something feels wrong here. Well, not wrong, but not right."

"What are you referring to?" Spock immediately lost track of the emotion he was scrutinizing to the far more identifiable worry.

Jim glanced up at him doubtfully, positive he had heard concern or something there. "This planet. It's…not right."

Spock didn't relax, his spine snapping straight. "What do you mean?"

Jim winced. "I…I don't know. First…well, first it seemed like it didn't, well, it didn't look right. I guess. And the air feels…off…"

The stoic commander tilted his head to the side. "As you are unaccustomed to the planet, that is not unsurprising."

Jim growled in annoyance, running his hands through his hair. "It's not like that. It was like it was all wrong. Like something didn't add up! I mean, fuck, it didn't _smell_ right. How the hell is a planet supposed to smell right?"

He was staring at the view, so he missed the momentary look of horror passing across his first officer's face. He wasn't aware that anything was wrong until he heard the sound of the door sliding open. He stood with a jump, looking over in time to see the door slid shut. He blinked at it a moment, baffled. Apparently he'd said something wrong. Jim collapsed back with a frustrated sigh. He was going to have to get back to work in a few minutes. He didn't have time to worry about why Spock had left. It _was_ possible he had just returned to his work, deciding Jim's ramblings weren't important.

He hadn't. Spock knew he was walking rather blindly through the halls. Dimly, he recognized Uhura's face in passing. She made no attempt to stop him, watching as he walked on. He didn't stop, didn't process until he had reached his room. Halfway to his floor, his knees giving out, he heard the door slide shut behind him.

Jim.

He was projecting on Jim. Jim had voiced Spock's opinions about the planet, his discomfort with it. Jim's actions before, stepping from the cliff side, a reflection of Spock reaching, telepathically, for the planet, and coming up wanting. He was not bonded to the land as he had been to Vulcan. He could not reach it, no matter how he strained. He was projecting on Jim.

His emotions. His actions. His musings. All of it was for such a reason. Jim had not been inaccurate before, not entirely. When they had been locked together, it was as though they were bonded. Always touching. Always touched. Even when blocking, it was persistent. A connection with another being. Never separate. That was what he was subconsciously reaching for. For Jim. Not just because of the familiarity, no matter how very comforting that itself was. Jim was dynamic, enticing. He had always known.

The thought of a relationship, not even one so deep as bonding, was…tempting. But it was undeniably impossible. Even if he approached it illogically, which he was loath to admit was his first inclination, Jim wouldn't desire such a relationship. Nor would it be logical in their capacities.

With a sigh, he sank into meditation. There was little else for him to do.

… … .. . .. … …

**And now Spock's got it. It's a shame I don't like making things easy for them, because soon…very soon…mwahahaha.**

**Or, you know, whatever. Expect disaster.**

**_Kali-if-fee _-that whole mating duel, in case you forgot**


	33. Chapter 33

**Don't own.**

**You guys are great and I wish I could respond to everyone's messages individuality.**

… … .. . .. … …

"Fuck." Jim rolled out of his bed, hitting the comm. button with a groan.

So much for sleeping.

"Captain, you have a call from the admiralty." The voice from the bridge announced. "They'd like to speak to you and Commander Spock."

Jim groaned. "Okay. I'll take it in here, just give me a minute to get Spock."

"Yes sir."

With a sleepy huff, Jim strode across the room and through the bathroom to knock on Spock's door. He heard a momentary shuffling, followed by swift steps and the door slid open. Spock was wearing meditation robes, staring patiently at him, trying to ignore the fact that Jim had been sleeping in his boxers and his command gold.

"Captain?"

"My room, now." He ordered, turning around.

Spock stiffened, but followed. "May I inquire as to why my presence is necessary?"

"Admirals." Jim yawned. "Figured it was easiest to take it here, so I didn't have to drag myself down to the meeting room. You don't mind, do you?"

Jim tensed up a bit, realizing he had dragged Spock into his _bedroom_, half dressed, before he had given him an explanation. Hopefully Spock hadn't thought… He glanced over, and Spock nodded once.

"That is acceptable."

So they pulled two chairs up to his desk and Jim hit the button for the video comm. Pike immediately came into view, looking quite miffed in his office. He quirked an eyebrow at them, taking in the ruffled, sleep deprived appearance.

"Hey Pike." Jim smiled sleepily. "What do you need?"

"The Cardassians have requested we negotiate." He said solemnly. "They specifically said they wanted your ship to be docked with theirs, as a…good will gesture."

Jim sighed. "Yeah, we figured that. We already made plans just incase. We'll forward them along…did they say where they wanted it?"

"Onais II is on the list." Pike scowled, words weighty with the implication. "We haven't told them we're going there yet, but if you start off towards your patrol, you'll have to turn just when you pass closest to Onais II. We'll have agreed by then and be calling everyone to the planet."

Jim nodded. "Alright. We'll head out tomorrow."

Pike nodded, frowning. "How is the situation on New Vulcan? Will it be alright for you to leave?"

Spock spoke up there. "The situation is acceptable. Treatment for the fungus is being implemented and all supplies they requested are planet side. We will be able to leave tomorrow as required."

"Good." Pike said with a relieved sigh, slumping in his chair, smiling softly. "Where exactly are you two?"

"My room." Jim admitted with a shrug. "You keep waking me up."

Pike's eyebrows drew together immediately and he leaned forward. "What happened to all the decorations you keep in there?"

Jim winced and Spock leaned back a bit, closing off. Pike frowned at them.

"Does this have anything to do with the medical issue you had recently?" Pike was always quick to put one and one together.

Jim gulped. "Uh…no?"

"Spock." Pike glanced over. "What happened?"

Spock stiffened in his seat when he was addressed, and cocked his head to the side _innocently_. "I will differ to Jim's judgment in this matter."

"Jim?" Christopher twisted his face in confusion. "You're calling him Jim in front of commanding officers?"

"He even called me Jim in front of subordinates." Jim chuckled.

"That _is_ impressive." Pike watched Spock's ears turn green. "It took me a year to get _that_ kind of familiarity."

"Is there anything else of relevance we must discuss?" Spock interrupted, still faintly green.

"No." Pike admitted, a suspicious look on his face. "I should let you get some sleep."

"Okay. Kirk out." Jim turned the consol off and leaned back in his seat.

He sighed, rubbing at his eyes. There was no way he was getting back to sleep, the excitement of an impending encounter lingering in his blood. He shivered with it, and resigned himself to a freezing shower to cool down. Spock watched him a moment, considering the taut outline and clear distress in the lines around his eyes. There was a small pang of regret in his chest that, though Jim had shared so much with him, it seemed the chasm between them was still too great for him to reach across and offer comfort.

"It was eleven months and twenty days." Spock wasn't sure why he spoke, but Jim's attention snapped to him immediately, fully devoted to listening. "It was eleven months and twenty days after meeting Christopher that I chose refer to him by his first name in front of anyone of a lesser rank than his own."

Jim's eyes widened, but he didn't interrupt.

"When I first came to the academy, I was…something of an attraction. People found the idea of my attendance novel. The novelty wore thin, however, when I out performed my peers, and they came to resent me. I met Christopher near the beginning of my fourth year of studies. He had just returned from an exploratory mission, and was seeing his samples down to the labs." Spock closed his eyes, recalling with perfect clarity the look of surprise on Pike's face when he first saw him. "He insisted that Starfleet was lucky to have me."

"They are." Jim reminded.

Spock opened his eyes, quirking an eyebrow at Jim. "In spite of my difficulties with my peers, I had no trouble in conversing with him. At approximately three months, he requested I refer to him by name when we conversed in private. I agreed. At seven months and fifteen days, he insisted I was more his peer than that of my fellow students. The following day, I referred to him by his given name in front of several teachers and admiral Barnett. He had insisted it was in no way belittling to his position, as they were of equal or higher rank. Mind you, I did not call him by his first name often."

Spock paused when he caught the contemplative look on Jim's face, waiting for the question he was mulling over. It never came though, and Jim signaled for him to continue.

"It was the day he approached me in the cafeteria, informing me Starfleet was offering me a teaching position, that I chose to call him by his first name in front of people of lower rank than he. I…do not know what compelled me to do so. Though it was improprietous and unprofessional at best, he seemed pleased by my decision. I only refer to him in such an intimate way when we are alone, or he attempts to engage me in personal discussion in front of our subordinates."

Jim smiled weakly at him. "I guess you really like and respect him."

"Yes." Spock admitted softly.

They sat in awkward silence a moment, each looking at their respective corners over the other's shoulder. After a few moments, Spock deemed their actions highly illogical and stood. Jim immediately jumped to his feet after him.

"I believe it is prudent I return to my room for rest now." Spock explained.

"Uh…Yeah, good night." Jim muttered, watching him disappear through the doorway.

He flushed vibrantly as soon as it slid shut, flopping down onto his bed, face first, and groaning into his pillow. That had been humiliating, and there was exactly no reason for him to think it was. A small smile tugged at his lips, and within seconds he was grinning like a mad man. Sure, he was a bit jealous of Spock and Pike's easy relationship, which he was a big enough man to admit to himself, but Spock had just _shared_ something with him. Spock opened up a bit of his past and Jim was acting like a giddy fool because of it. Try as he could, he wasn't finding any problems with that.

… .. .

"I thought you said you could move instinctively." Uhura chided Jim relentlessly, coming up behind him to take his hips in her hands.

They had left New Vulcan that morning and, as soon as their shift was over, Uhura had commandeered her two commanding officers. Insistent mutterings of having better things to do than dance lessons did not deter her. So Jim was tripping his way through a complex Cardassian dance while Spock attempted, in mute horror, to not participate as subtly as possible.

"Okay." Uhura sighed before Jim could interrupt. "We're going to do this _again_. Kirk, I'm going to move with you. Follow. My. Moves. Spock, if you don't actually participate, Kirk won't be able to learn the steps either. So do it."

Both men tensed, but settled back into position. As it was a Cardassian dance, they had the benefit of very limited hand contact. Unfortunately, most every other part of them came in contact at one point or another. To start, their hands hovered just centimeters apart on one side, the other hands on the lower half of the ribcage and shoulder respectively. Gingerly, Spock tilted his hand in and to the side, ghosting their wrists together and sliding his palm to Jim's elbow. McCoy, who was watching without bothering to stifle his amused guffaws, hit the music. It was a quick paced dance, and for the most part, they slid through the steps with ease.

Uhura made a sound of annoyance in the back of her throat when Jim purposefully halted the motion of his hips, jerking the footwork out of time. "Stop. Stop. Stop! What the hell are you doing?"

Jim flushed, not really willing to tell her, let alone with Spock in the room, how exceptionally uncomfortable he was with gyrating near his first officer. He shot a look at McCoy, who snickered, but shot a mildly sympathetic look back. Spock had backed off once again, hands behind his back, reflecting on his own issues with the matter. The thoughts were distinctly similar to Jim's own, not that either was aware of that fact.

"I was just-"

"No. You know what. I get it." She threw up her hands to stop him. "We'll get into the issue you two have with dancing together later. Come here."

Jim did as he was told, frowning minutely at the promise to 'get into [it] later'. Uhura slid into place, naturally set to follow. With an eyebrow raise, Spock retreated to where McCoy was sitting. With Jim's movement, and a nod from Uhura, the music started over again. Spock watched in mild awe as Jim led her easily through the dance. They looked…beautiful…together. The dance was a strange mix of anger and tenderness, always moving and testing boundaries. Jim looked so lost in the dace, to him, so at ease, that he could feel the heat of envy rise to his cheeks.

The music came to a stop, and Jim stepped back with a nod. Uhura stared blankly at him. It was, technically, a perfect dance. He'd followed each step exactly as he should, made each move flawlessly. Yet for all his technical skill, there was something almost lifeless to the way he danced. He hadn't _felt_ it.

McCoy scowled at what he was seeing. Jim walked over to sit down, mumbling something about being tired. He watched as Spock led Uhura through the dance, barely keeping the wistful desire from his face.

"They're perfect together." Jim told Bones quietly.

"No." McCoy shrugged. "I don't think they are."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Look at them, will ya? Tell me they don't look like they belong next to each other."

McCoy snorted at that. "I'm telling ya, Jim, when people see Spock, it ain't Uhura standing next to him that they see."

"What-" Jim cut himself off as the music stopped. "That looked amazing. Can we go now?"

Uhura bit her lip, glaring between the two of them. "For now, but don't think we are at all done with this conversation."

She waited until they had rushed off their separate ways to plop down next to McCoy. He looked over at her in amusement, waiting for the outburst. She was never one to disappoint.

"Maybe we should just lock them in a room until they start making out."

And he blanched. "I really, _really_ don't think that'll work."

"God, McCoy, I wasn't serious. Why would you even…That's something Kirk would actually do, isn't it?" She sighed, shaking her head. "Actually, we have a plan. I'd been considering it ever since Jim announced his little party thing, but the diplomatic party can work just as well."

McCoy scowled. "Now wait just a minute. While I'm sure that's all fine and dandy, remember that this party isn't exactly going to be safe more over than it being public. We can't have them distracted, or drunk, or otherwise impaired."

"It's nothing that overt you worry wart." She frowned. "We're going to be subtle."

"Who exactly is this we?"

"Well, it started with me and Sulu…" She noticed the grimace. "Trust me, it is going to be completely subtle, but we'll need your help too."

"Doing what?"

"Pretending to be in a relationship."

"You and Sulu?"

"No you."

"Nope. Jim'll spot that a mile away."

"Okay, then not exactly a relationship. You and Chapel can work out the details."

"Chapel?" Bones scowled, leaning back further on the couch. "Why in blue blazes would Chapel and I be in a relationship?"

"I'm not saying you would. It'd just be small things hinting at it, like dancing with her more than anyone else, or getting her a drink, lending your jacket if she gets cold. She'd be your date for the ball."

"Why? And why me?"

"It won't just be you. Sulu has managed to convince Chekov to participate, Rand and Giotto actually _are_ in a relationship right now, so they agreed and…well, I'm going to approach Scotty soon."

"Rand and Giotto are- never mind. I'm not gossiping. You still didn't explain why."

"Set the mood?" She offered weakly. "Get them to subconsciously notice the gestures and put them at ease with the romantic feel of the room. At the very least, they might be able to figure out for themselves that they like each other."

McCoy scowled, briefly considering telling her that Jim already knew, before dismissing it. "You've known the two for how long, and actually think this will work?"

"I thought you were the one with the most psychology classes on the ship. Trust me, it'll help."

"I think you're just trying to play matchmaker with the entire ship. And why Scotty?"

"Because Spock suggested him." She saw the confusion and quickly explained the past discussion. "At first, he would think we were just together at the party so no one thought I was available, but then he'd notice small things that would be completely unnecessary for an ordinary ruse. It'll get him in the mind set to question romantic feelings."

"Uh huh." McCoy looked at her skeptically. "And when, inevitably, your shenanigans go wrong? Then what? Or when you get caught? Because they will figure out you were messing with them."

"It'll be too late by then."

… .. .

It was two more days until the announcement, and Jim was more than a little anxious. Uhura had decided not to drag him off for dancing lessons, so he found himself in the gym. It wasn't long until Spock found him.

Spock froze, watching him from the doorway. Jim was working out in a loose pair of jeans, not the most conducive to free movement, but certainly interesting to see. He considered, briefly, the many touches, the sudden interest in Jim's mind, not from the first time their thoughts brushed, but certainly at some point. And looking back, now, he found even in those events Jims mind _had_ been attractive. Much like someone who had never considered something appealing until after they were already addicted to it, it was hard to pinpoint a change.

And maybe it was that he craved the affection and attention Jim lavished so easily on people, but he found there was much more to his understated attraction then that Jim's mind was dynamic. He had no idea what he was supposed to do now with this new information.

Jim squeaked when he spotted his first officer. "Uh…Hi."

"Captain." Spock inclined his head, attempting to hide the fact that he had been staring.

"I was…uh…warming up." He said lamely. "Want to spar?"

He wasn't sure why he had just said that. The last thing he needed now was for this jumbled mess of emotions he was working off to get transferred to Spock. He hadn't really changed his actions around the other man since his silent revelation, but that didn't change the fact that the emotions were there. Briefly, he wondered if Spock could detect his emotions even if he didn't know he was having them.

"If that is what you desire." Spock thanked Vulcan physiology that he wasn't blushing fiercely.

Jim tensed momentarily, and Spock remembered the still obscured piece of Jim's past. Though his words had been, mostly, without innuendo, there was still the possibility for interpretation. While Jim would know that wasn't what he meant, would his thoughts turn there, and would he begin to associate Spock with such a dark and disturbing memory? Spock suddenly, rather illogically, wished he had phrased it differently. Jim relaxed a bit though, his mind having on a remotely different topic, and nodded.

"Get over here so I can kick your ass."

"Would it not be more effective to aim your kick somewhere likely to do more damage?"

Jim laughed. "I guess we'll find out."

They were both surprised to find the short match drawing itself out far longer than they expected. Neither was willing to land a finishing blow, so it dragged on at a distance. It wasn't until Jim tackled Spock that they realized they had been going for far too long, as Spock's knee gave out and they collapsed in a pile.

Jim laughed, attempting to push himself up and collapsing back down on Spock's lightly heaving chest. "Nng. Ow. Sorry. Are you okay?"

"I am unhurt by your attempt to move." And when Jim made an inquiring little sound. "I believe you bruised my shin earlier."

Jim laughed. "Oops. If it's any consolation, I have a handprint on my bicep."

"I do not believe you receiving injury is in any form a consolation." Spock admitted, too exhausted himself to move Jim from where he was now pillowed on his chest.

Jim hummed, trying to force his eyes back open and only half succeeding. "I don't think I've ever seen you with a bruise, what does it look like?"

"Pardon?"

"Your skin, when it bruises. Mine's usually a dark purple. What color do Vulcans bruise?"

Spock considered the statement a moment. "While there is some varience, my skin often bruises a deep blue-green or copper, depending on the nature of the bruise."

"Hm." Jim agreed, moving his arms again in a renewed attempt to lift himself. "Does liking your blood color make me weird?"

Spock moved to assist him. "I hardly consider that to be the defining factor, Jim. More over, I find myself…fond of your blood color as well."

Jim paused, from where he had lifted himself partially, to look Spock in the eyes. "Seriously? Why? I mean, you don't have to tell me, it isn't that big a deal, but…"

"The color is…comforting." Spock admitted awkwardly. "It is both the color of my planet, and my mother's blood."

"Oh." Jim whispered. "Yeah. I get that. Your blood reminds me of growing things. Like the tall grass and the grain fields in Iowa."

Rather suddenly, Spock understood what his mother meant, by being flattered by such sentiment. It was uniquely gratifying to hear that his blood reminded the other man of something to be so fondly reminisced on. As if on cue, he felt his face heat up. Jim blushed in kind.

"Uh…thanks, though. I…guess?" Jim glanced away, voice a little shaky. "You know…since you _did_ say the sand was the most beautiful thing on your planet."

Jim really wished he could take that back. Spock was staring at him wide eyed like he had another head. There was a tense moment where they both just stared at each other. Jim's arms chose that moment to give out, though, and he collapsed back on his first officer with a grunt.

"Sorry."

"Do not apologize."

And it took a moment for Jim to realize he had no idea how they ended up in quite the position they were in, because he nearly had to cross his eyes to focus on Spock, they were so close, and their hands were so very close…

No one knew who move where, exactly, but there was no doubt their hands entwined at the same time as their lips. They were no longer lacking in energy, as they sprang apart from the millisecond contact, both blushing profusely. Immediately, Jim raced from the room, berating himself for doing something so stupid and incredibly confusing, blaming himself intrinsically. Spock stared after him, berating himself for acting so emotionally and blaming himself for his lack of control, for forcing his emotions on his friend and Captain. Neither even considered for a second that the other held some responsibility in their awkward encounter.

… .. .

McCoy cursed and swore at the staccato knocks on his door, having just finished his dinner and been about to prepare for bed. "Fuck you Jim. Deal with your shit on your own."

"I am not our Captain."

McCoy tripped in his rush to get the door open. "Spock?"

Spock was still green, looking, for the world, like he had no idea what he was doing. "I…need your help."

He stepped aside quickly and let Spock in, too dumbfounded to speak. Spock sat down on the ground almost immediately, forgoing the chairs, and began to take deep, completely unhelpful breaths. McCoy glanced at his medical bag, on the desk, before kneeling in front of him. He'd have said if it was medical, or gone to Sickbay.

"I…I am emotionally compromised."

'No Shit' was McCoy's first thought. "What happened?"

"I would request you tell the captain nothing of what I say here." Spock told him quickly, blush deepening a bit.

"Okay…" McCoy said hesitantly. "Do I need my tricorder?"

"No. I am…asking as a friend." Spock looked down, breaking eye contact.

McCoy shifted to sit cross-legged in a stunned moment of silence. "Are you now?" He didn't sound scathing or skeptical, just a bit staggered.

Spock rather rightly assumed it was a rhetorical question. "I do not know who else I may approach on this matter. Though she is a friend, Nyota would no doubt be entirely unhelpful. I am unsure _you_ will be helpful. I am unsure if there is any help to be found."

It was with a start that McCoy realized Spock was rambling. The blush was gone, but there was a mildly wild, crazy look in his eyes. McCoy snapped his fingers in front of his face to bring him out of his downward rant.

"What happened?"

"I…" Spock squirmed, flushing. "I have…That is to say I am experiencing…"

McCoy quirked an eyebrow. "Any day now Spock."

Spock closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "_I-have-found-I-harbor-romantic-feelings-for-Jim._"

McCoy hissed in alarm at Spock's announcement, the whole sentence incomprehensible for having come out in the span of a single Vulcan heartbeat. "What was that?"

Spock gave him a pleading look, begging not to have to repeat himself, but did so anyway. "I have found I harbor…romantic feelings…for Jim."

Both of the doctor's eyebrows shot up and he leaned back a bit. "Oh. And you want…what from me?"

"I do not know." Spock admitted meekly. "I do not know how to approach this."

"Well what do you _want_?" McCoy rolled his eyes. "Do you want to get over this? Do you want a relationship with Jim? Do you just want to pretend it doesn't exist?"

"I do not know." Spock nearly snapped, frustrated. "I am out of my depths, doctor."

McCoy sighed. Keeping both their secrets was going to kill him. "Okay. Why here? Why tell me now?"

If at all possible, Spock's blush redoubled, a fierce green. "I…kissed Jim."

"Well that's pretty definitive." McCoy choked out, fully confused on where he came in.

Spock glared at him. "I am extremely confused right now, doctor. Kindly refrain from taunting me for it."

"I'm not-Spock, I'm not taunting you." McCoy told him quickly, brow furrowed. "I just…look, I don't want you getting hurt because I know you don't do emotions and sometimes Jim can be pretty rough with them. And if you tell anyone, at all, that I said I didn't want your feelings getting hurt I will kill you."

Spock straighten himself a bit, managing to school something like indifference on his face. "Believe me, doctor, I would not divulge my own shortcomings simply to extrapolate on something you perceive as a flaw."

"Wonderful."

"I do not believe I would be the one to be hurt." Spock added more softly.

"Oh…" McCoy sighed. "Okay. Best option, in this case, be gentle with Jim's emotional state. Try courting him slowly, if you are interested. Or at least talk to him about that kiss, so we don't all have to deal with tension you could play a guitar with."

Spock nodded, standing. "I will do so."

McCoy gripped his shoulder. "Hey, you may be a complete pain in my ass, but you're still…" He mumbled extremely softly and forced the words out in a jumble.

"I am sorry, I did not hear the last of what you said."

McCoy flushed. "I said you're still the best first officer in the entire fleet. Now get out of my room."

"Thank you, McCoy." Spock told him honestly, feeling a little stunned by the sentiment he received.

Alone in his room, McCoy buried his face in his pillow and shouted until his face was blue. Trust the hobgoblin _and_ Jim to come to him on relationship advice. Because obviously he knew something about successful relationships. It was with a snort, as he prepared for bed, that he realized Uhura's plan actually had a chance of doing something now; mainly making them incredibly awkward and constantly trying _not_ to think about the other romantically.

… .. .

Spock decided not to put the conversation off any longer than _strictly_ necessary and, after a night of meditation and rest, knocked hesitantly on Jim's door. Jim announced for him to enter, his voice momentarily muffled. As the door opened, Spock caught sight of Jim tugging his command gold down over his black undershirt. He turned to level his blue eyes on him, and froze, a light flush springing up on his cheeks.

"Spock." He said as professionally as he could.

"Jim." Spock started distinctly aware of the closed door at his back. "I believe we should discuss the incident that occurred last night."

Jim felt his heart sink, and sat down in a chair. So this was it. He'd managed to blow it. Spock made no move to sit, so he started talking.

"I understand." Jim sighed, diverting his gaze to the blank computer screen. "It was unprofessional and highly inappropriate. That kind of fraternization has no place on a starship. I'm sure we can both work past this…crush, though. With time, it won't even be an issue at all. We are both professional men who can act like adults. There's no reason this has to be awkward. We can forget it even happened, knowing there won't be a repeat of the events. Don't you agree?"

Jim managed to school his face into a completely captain-ly look, so it wouldn't seem like he was pleading. Spock was standing very stiffly, eyes a little wider than before. He felt like he'd just been plunged in ice water, hearing Jim dismiss his emotions so easily. That was it. Jim had just told him that his behavior was unacceptable, that his feelings had no chance of reciprocation.

"Very well, Captain." Spock's voice held no inflection. "I will see you aboard the bridge."

Jim winced as Spock turned on his heel and left. He had the distinct feeling that answer hadn't satisfied him. It wasn't like he had any idea what else he could say though. He'd _thought_ he'd covered all the bases. He'd thought that maybe things would be alright. It hurt, having to admit all that to Spock, and knowing he thought less of him for it. Jim sighed, running his fingers through his hair. His shift was starting soon.

… .. .

McCoy watched Jim, hovering over some reports like he was interested in them. Casually, the blond drifted over towards his office, where he had been preparing for the day. Silently, Jim slipped in and looked over the walls, like nothing were happening. McCoy set his work aside, looking him over. He was…serene, the calmness surrounding him reminiscent of a man who was prepared for death. Curious.

"Alright Jim, spit it out."

"I kissed Spock." He said casually, turning his head to glance back at McCoy.

Bones quirked an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Yeah. Last night." He didn't sound panicked.

"You sound like you're taking this well." McCoy pointed out, well aware that he must have gone into complete defensive mode if he was so calm.

"Ah." Jim chuckled. "Well, we talked about it this morning." McCoy opened his mouth to congratulate him, but was frozen when he saw Jim shake his head. "I just hope he doesn't transfer. He was pretty mad at me."

"What?" That didn't sound right at all.

Jim turned to look at him fully. "I told him I understood. And that this…crush…wouldn't come between our work."

McCoy flopped back into his seat with a groan. There was no way they could actually, feasibly, miscommunicate as often as they did. Jim sighed, shrugging a little. He'd already been prepared for this. Already expected it to go horribly wrong. That was what he got, for developing feelings for someone. McCoy just shook his head, giving Jim a highly sympathetic look.

"Are you going to be fine today?" He asked honestly, wondering how to sort this mess out.

"Yeah, it'll just be the most awkward moment of my life." Jim grinned when McCoy's brow furrowed. "It's kind of awkward telling someone you have…romantic feelings. The whole discussion is."

McCoy grunted. "You're telling me."

Jim smiled softly at him. "Sorry Bones. Thanks for listening to me."

McCoy sighed, shaking his head. "That's what I'm here for Jim."

… … .. . .. … …

**Oh the guilt and awkward lack of communication. Yes McCoy, they can actually miscommunicate that much.**


	34. Chapter 34

**Don't own.**

**Sorry this took so long to get up...On the positive side, I got into the grad school I wanted...**

**Please enjoy.**

… … .. . .. … …

Spock was in the science labs, most likely to avoid Jim. Jim was with IT, most likely to avoid Spock. So McCoy wasn't at all surprised to catch whisper of a discussion on them as he approached the officer's table. Apparently the tension on the bridge had been, to put it mildly, like a hot skewer to the eye: not exactly painful in a conventional way, but incredibly terrifying and awkward. Reaching the table, he slapped his hands down on the surface, fixing Uhura with an exasperated look.

"I'm in."

"You are?" She asked incredulously.

"That makes everyone." Sulu observed.

"Why?" Uhura said suspiciously.

McCoy slid into a seat, sighing bodily. "I'm tired of playing sounding board for a pair of angst ridden fifteen year old boys with their first crushes."

"Sounding board?" Scotty asked incredulously.

"Pair?" Chekov chimed in.

"Yes, pair." McCoy growled. "They both feel the need to drop fucking anvil sized hints on my head, among other revelations. I'm not their damn mediator. The sooner they figure out they have to talk to each other about this, and for more than five minutes to work out the kinks, the sooner my office can get back to being an office and not a therapy room."

The group leaned back in their seats, impressed by the rant. His tone clearly meant business. No one dared to ask what exactly he was being told. It was obvious enough from observing the pair, and listening to them discuss each other, that the only people they were fooling were themselves. Knowing that McCoy had to hear even more then usual, that was just cruel and unusual.

"So you're going to help us because anything is better then listening to them?" Sulu snickered.

"Yes." McCoy groaned. "But let's get one straight, when you get caught, I had nothing to do with any of it."

… .. .

It was weird. When they were seriously arguing, the Enterprise was more than large enough for them to avoid each other when off shift. And yet it seemed something was conspiring to make the situation even more awkward. Jim mused on that, from where he was flat on his back, staring up at Spock.

"Are you alright?" Spock asked, quickly lifting himself.

"Yeah." Jim grunted, pushing himself up. "You?"

"There is only damage to my shirt."

Jim nodded, turning to stare at the computer terminal that had decided to explode on him. Spock had stopped by the computer controls room to request work be done on a few of the scanners in the lab. Jim had, rather smartly, jerked from where he was organizing the emergency panel to actually be usefully, rather than a Gordian knot, upon hearing his first officer's voice. One particular wire he was attempting to straighten was an overload relay to the computer terminal next to him, oddly enough. When it sparked disastrously, Spock dragged him away and to the ground, throwing himself over him protectively.

"What the hell is wrong with the computers on this ship?"

"Captain?"

"No, seriously." Jim frowned, inching closer to the temporarily decommissioned computer. "First, during the Narada incident, they were sparking all over the place. Not just live wires, but the whole terminal. Now they keep popping and sending waves of sparks at the most random or inconvenient times."

"Perhaps there was a mistake made during repairs." Spock offered, glancing at the two IT men standing to the side, gawking at the terminal.

"Great." Jim drawled, lightly kicking the machine. "I'll get Scotty and some of the IT guys looking into the relays for any major issue they can pinpoint. Do you think you guys can finish up in here?"

"Yes Sir." The two men answered, jumping to clean up the mess.

With a sigh, Jim cleared the room. Spock followed immediately after, betraying none of the awkwardness he felt. Jim was silently giving himself a small mental cheer that, yes, they could work together, no matter how incredibly awkward it was. And really, since when were their interactions anything but awkward anyway?

"So…uh…" Jim glanced sideways, thinking desperately for some way to relieve the tension between them. "Wanna go play chess?"

Spock stilled, giving him an almost incredulous look, brown eyes unreadable. "Chess?"

"Um…maybe not." Jim flushed.

Why had he said chess? He knew they both hated chess. So why chess? Of all the stupid things he could say, he suggested they deal with their awkwardness by, what? Bonding over their mutual dislike of a game? Genius Jim. Pure and utter-

"That would be acceptable."

Genius?

Jim glanced dubiously sideways. "You're joking."

"I am not." Spock's eyes glinted with amusement.

Jim started to laugh. "Oh god. I missed this."

And they both stiffened. Jim grimaced, realizing how utterly stupid it was for him to open his mouth like that. Spock simply nodded though.

"I apologize, Captain, but for the sake of our friendship, perhaps it is best if we do not discuss the incongruity of our emotional attachment to one another." Spock was purposefully avoiding his gaze.

Jim's heart leapt anyway. "We can still be friends though?"

"I believe the phrase is 'the best of'?" Spock desperately hoped he wasn't overstepping his bounds, as Jim had already expanded upon his desire to remain simply friends.

He had no need to worry, as Jim beamed at him. "You may have to compete with Scotty and Bones for that spot. They are pretty epic."

"I see." Spock tilted his head a moment before nodding. "Mr. Scott will be easy to distract with the engines and mechanical journals. It will be harder to dispose of Doctor McCoy."

Jim couldn't help it as he doubled over with laughter, earning the surprised looks of several passing crew members. Spock stood at a pleasant parade rest, eyes hinting at his affectionate amusement. If Jim had looked, he would have seen the pain also present. Nothing heart wrenching, or horrifically drastic, but a saddened pain that he had caused Jim such duress with his emotions, a determination to never do so again, and a guilty feeling that he most likely would anyway.

When Jim straightened, wiping at the tears of oxygen deprivation in the corners of his eyes, Spock began moving again. Jim made to follow, but froze when he caught sight of Spock's back. The sparks had severely damaged his blue over shirt, leaving charred holes in it. He winced. Spock glanced back, noticing he had not started to walk again.

"Jim?"

"Don't ever do that again." Jim couldn't stop the words, and wasn't sure he wanted to. He was a little furious that Spock would just jump in front of some sparks like that.

"Do what, captain?" Spock folded his hands behind his back, and his skin caught on the charred material. Eyes widened as he realized what Jim mush have seen walking behind him.

Jim plowed right on. "I can take care of myself. Even if I couldn't, you can't just put yourself in danger. Think next time."

Spock frowned minutely. "With all due respect, Captain, I did."

Jim scowled at that. "Damn it Spock I'm serious. I don't want you getting hurt for me."

Spock straightened. "I am unsure I will be able to adhere to your request, but I will attempt to do so."

Jim inhaled sharply. He wasn't supposed to be happy about that. Spock was upset with him. But a damn, bubbly sensation raged about in his stomach. And sank when he realized he had just been relegated to the position of pet. Spock apparently felt the need to protect him, like he were a small kitten, or puppy, or rabbit. Something fluffy and cute and in desperate need of a constant watch.

"You know, I can handle myself. I don't get into trouble _that_ often."

Spock quirked an eyebrow. "If you desire, I am capable of calculating the average number of times you encounter a dangerous situation by week, day, or hour."

Jim didn't know whether he should laugh or scowl. Attempting to do both proved less then fruitful. "Come on, Spock. I think I'm scaring my crew."

Spock simply lifted an eyebrow and nodded. Somehow, they didn't end up in the rec room. Instead, they wound up in Spock's room. Jim didn't even think about it, plopping easily down on the floor. After a moment's hesitation, Spock joined him. Jim offered him a lazy smile, which he returned with his eyes.

"So…I found out Rand is dating Giotto." Jim grimaced as soon as he said it.

That was not a conversation he wanted to have with Spock. At least because then they would be talking about feelings and romantic things and if that weren't embarrassing enough on a normal day…well, on normal days it didn't sound like a segue into talking about their own issues. Spock lifted an incredulous eyebrow at him and Jim made a strangled little sound of discomfort.

"I believe the start of their liaison was at the starbase." Spock finally replied, somehow looking amused.

Jim gaped. "How did you find that out? And before me?"

"I became aware of their relationship upon discovering it was Lieutenant Giotto who provided the security codes to Yeoman Rand."

The room rather suddenly grew weighted and awkward as they both remembered _that_ exchange. Slowly, Jim's face started to heat up, recalling how he had an entire conversation with his First Officer in nothing but a towel. Spock's ears were stained with green as he remembered with excellent detail _exactly_ what he had seen that night. Jim coughed awkwardly.

"Uh…yeah. Well, I found out earlier because Rand was gossiping with Chapel about having no idea what to wear to the damn ball, complaining Giotto was probably going to wear his regular uniform." Jim sighed. "God. Am I supposed to have a date for this thing or stand around stag, looking pretty for the Federation?"

Spock's lips twitched at the word stag. "I would suspect the typical action is for people to bring a dance partner. As a captain, and the closest liaison to the Cardassians, I do not suspect you will be required to do so."

Jim sighed, shoulders relaxing. "That's such a relief. I honestly can't think of anyone who would put up with dancing with me that much."

Spock gulped down a response, but Jim realized he was staring at him and ducked his head awkwardly. Jim was worried Spock had interpreted that as an invitation, which it almost had been. He didn't realize Spock had almost made the offer himself, before realizing what an awful idea it would be. Jim would never be able to see it as simply a friendly gesture, because it wasn't, and would be forced to once again let Spock down. He wouldn't blame him if he chose not to do it as easily as he had before.

An awkward silence settled over them. Idly, Jim plucked at the fabric of his pants, staring off at the far wall. Spock stood, superfluously straightening his shirt. Jim snapped his eyes to him, failing utterly at being subtle. After a rather terse exchange of eye contact, Jim returned his eyes to his pants.

"Would you like tea, Jim?" Spock finally asked, attempting to return to his previous purpose.

"Uh…sure. That'd be nice." Jim mumbled, not daring to look up again. His mind was grasping for something to talk about. "How…er…how is your meditation going?"

To his credit, Spock didn't drop the newly replicated cup of tea, though a slight tremor did pass through his hands. "It is adequate." He felt ashamed that Jim should have to ask about his control.

"Yeah." Jim frowned. "Because I can meditate with you if you need me to-o-oh-ah…um…if it doesn't make you uncomfortable?"

Spock looked back as Jim stumbled over his words, a small frown on his own face. Jim was trying, valiantly, to return things to normal. Every time they came close, the revelation of their unequal regards for each other reared its head. It was frustrating, and Spock almost wished he could pretend everything was as it had been before.

"I do not believe that would be a wise decision. The emotional transference…" Spock found himself trailing off in spite his best effort, and left the sentence hanging awkwardly in the air.

Jim sighed, scrubbing absently at the back of his neck. "Sorry. I shouldn't have even brought it up. This is just…weird. I'm not actually used to tiptoeing around you. I don't want this to be any more awkward than it has to be, but I can't go back to how everything was before."

Spock quirked his eyebrow in interest, but said nothing. He did not trust himself to speak, because he feared what he would say. There was really only one plausible way to ensure the harmony of the crew, at this point. Selfish as it was, if Jim had not considered transferring him yet, he did not desire to be the one to put the thought in his head. Jim's hand moved, shifting from his neck to his face, scrubbing idly at his mouth.

"Look." Jim finally said. "I usually cope by flirting." He caught the eye widening and hurried on. "Clearly that isn't a good idea. I mean, I flirt with my friends, but…but if I do that…I don't want to give you the wrong impression. I mean…if you interpreted playful flirting as having a deeper meaning then…"

"I believe I understand, Captain." Spock said flatly, eyes betraying the bitter tone his voice did not.

Jim flinched. "Sorry."

"Do not apologize."

Jim's eyes snapped to his, and a slow grin crept up on his face. Soon he was laughing, Spock's eyes dancing in mirth with him. Jim sighed and leaned back, head resting against the bed.

"Yeah, okay."

Spock carefully handed him his tea, mindful to keep their hands as far from each other as possible.

… .. .

Jim took a deep breath and nodded once to Uhura. "Patch him through."

"Yes captain." She replied, noting with a frown that Spock was not standing in his customary place by Kirk's shoulder.

The view screen flickered a moment, and settled on displaying a disgruntled Fitzpatrick. Jim greeted him politely, asking him what he needed. It was quite a show, pretending they had no idea the Cardassians wanted negotiations and that they were being invited. There was a way of going about this.

"Thank you, Admiral." Jim nodded politely. "Have a nice day."

Fitzpatrick's eye twitched just before the screen cut away. Jim sighed, rubbing his neck and slouching.

"You heard the man." Jim growled, eyes closed. "Chekov, set a course for Onais II. Sulu, Warp 4. Take us there men."

They quietly murmured their understanding, watching him with worried looks. Spock took a moment at his station, waiting for his opportunity. When Jim slumped further in his seat, a yawn cracking his jaw, he stood an approached. Jim blinked wearily up at him, brows knitted in confusion.

"What can I do for you?" He pushed himself back into something of a sitting position.

"I believe now would be the appropriate time to 'make good' on your promise, as I have heard it." Spock straightened a bit more, well aware of the looks he was getting.

They were always getting looks.

Jim blinked at him, taking a moment to draw up any promises he might have made. "Oh, shit. Spock! After my shift. Not _now_."

"As you have not received a full night's sleep in several months, I believe now would be acceptable." Spock raised an eyebrow as Jim opened his mouth to respond, and ended up yawning instead. "I simply request you take this time to get an hour or two of extra rest."

Jim could hear distinct snickers and scowled. "I'm fine, Spock. I-"

"Captain, you explicitly stated that you would use this time to recover from your lack of sleep and poor nutrition."

"I said nothing about the nutrition." Jim yelped at the momentary smug look when what he'd just said sank in. "You bastard! You lied about that part just so I'd correct you!"

Spock tilted his head to the side. "I did no such thing captain. It is good that you have remembered you promised to rest. Perhaps the lapse in memory was caused by a lack of sleep to facilitate proper brain function?"

"You don't have to insult me." Jim pouted, dragging himself out of the Captain's chair. "And fine. No more than two hours. You have the bridge until then."

"Yes Captain."

… .. .

It was half an hour later when sickbay called up to the bridge. Uhura rolled her eyes as McCoy's voice filtered in.

"Alright, Mr. Supercomputer. I don't know what you did, but congratulations. Jim's out like a light in one of my biobeds." McCoy sounded more amused than upset. "Now get down here."

"Why?" Spock flicked his eyes to Uhura, who had made an amused, squeaking sound.

"Random check-up. Get your green ass down here." McCoy growled. "Double time. McCoy out."

Spock closed his eyes a moment, centering himself. When he snapped his eyes back open, Sulu was watching him expectantly. He nodded to the pilot and stood to go. He was silent as he left, contemplating what McCoy wished to discuss with him. It was obvious, knowing the doctor, that this was not simply a check-up. It never was.

McCoy was leaning against the doorway to his office when Spock entered. A quick glance about and he located Jim, curled up on his side in a biobed. His heart raced, momentarily, as he recalled the numerous times Jim had rested in Sickbay, injured. When Spock looked back, McCoy was watching him with a knowing look. This time, Spock suspected he knew exactly what McCoy's look was for. After all, if anyone should know how it felt to see Jim in a biobed, injured, it would be Doctor McCoy.

"Doctor."

"Spock." McCoy entered his office, knowing the Vulcan was following him.

"For what reason have you called me here?" Spock asked when the door shut behind him.

"Take a look out there at Jim, what do you see?" McCoy asked as he started to dig through his bag, watching Spock from the corner of his eye.

"Doctor?" Spock quirked an eyebrow.

"I'm serious."

Spock turned towards the window, whose blinds were, for once, open. From his position, he could see Jim's back and the tousled blond hair.

"I am unsure what it is I am supposed to be looking for, Doctor." Spock told him, scrutinizing the image before him.

"Oh, nothing." McCoy told Spock before a sharp pain exploded in his neck. "I just needed to distract you."

Spock spun around woozily, knees trying to give out and vision swimming darkly. "You-"

"Sorry Spock, but you need the rest too. See, I had to knock Jim out with a hypo as well." McCoy followed Spock to the ground, kneeling next to him with a hand on his pulse. "As CMO I have that authority."

Spock glared blearily at him before loosing conscious. McCoy sighed, gesturing for a couple nurses to come into his office and help move the alien man. With a grunt, he tapped the com unit on the wall.

"Bridge here." Uhura answered.

"They're out cold. You all owe me."

"Of course. Thank you McCoy." She replied. "They really both needed it."

"I can tell." McCoy sighed, watching the nurses work. "McCoy out."

… .. .

The first thing Jim noticed on waking was that he was warm. Then he noticed that the bed wasn't that comfortable, and smelled like cleaner, and there was a bright light somewhere near his eyes. Then, before he opened his eyes, he remembered that Bones had been waiting for him just as he left the turbo lift. He'd asked what he was doing there and then…and then…

"You hypoed me!" Jim sat up straight in his bed, pointing an accusing finger at…thin air.

McCoy popped his head around the corner and gave him a skeptical, unimpressed look. "Welcome back to the land of the waking Jim."

Jim coughed, dropping his hand, and swinging his legs out of the bed. "I can't believe you knocked me out like that. Who put you up to it? Spock?"

"Who him?" McCoy snorted, jerking his thumb in the direction of another occupied bed, where Spock was laying unconscious.

"You hypoed Spock?" Jim asked in an incredulous, awed whisper.

McCoy snorted. "He deserved it, for not figuring it out when I told him you were asleep down here. Too damn tired to even question why you would willingly take a nap in Sickbay."

Jim frowned, approaching the bed. "How did you manage to get a hypo in him? He's super observant."

"He was busy staring at you." McCoy smirked.

"What? Why?"

"Because I told him to." A grin broke out, disturbing on the doctor's face. "Told him to check on you."

"You're awful." Jim said in wonderment, voice still low as he inched closer.

"Jim, maybe you shouldn't-" McCoy warned as Jim reached out towards his first officer.

His warning proved prudent as Spock woke with a start, sliding aggressively out of his bed, snagging Jim's wrist, and pinning him to the bed by the hand and throat. The second he was fully awake, Spock was a good ten feet away from Jim, straightening his shirt stoically.

"Captain."

"Uh…hi." Jim grinned weakly. "I hear Bones got you too."

"Indeed." Spock turned a blank look to McCoy, conveying a great deal of distaste.

McCoy was still smirking at them, arms folded over his chest and leaning on a monitor. "Is one of you going to ask what day it is?"

Spock straightened, spine forming as perfect a line as it could. Jim went pale, then red with rage.

"Damn it Bones. I'm the captain." Jim snapped. "You can't just knock me out for days on end. I mean…damn it. What if something had happened?"

"Oh relax. We're still two days from that damn planet."

"Tw-two days." Jim sat down hard on the floor.

Spock was staring at a far wall, eyes slightly wide and unfocused. He was as blank as a road map of Georgia. Taking their silence as an opportunity, McCoy started running a tricorder over both of them. Neither seemed inclined to say anything, contemplating the fact that McCoy had kept them asleep for two days.

"You're both fine now, though you're probably going to be a bit sluggish while the last of the drugs work their way out of your systems."

"Two days." Jim repeated.

"Yes Jim. Two days. And you're all rested now, and mostly back up to your proper weight to boot." McCoy shrugged.

Spock snapped to attention at that. "Is that so?"

"It is." McCoy grinned devilishly.

Jim squirmed. "Two days?"

"I believe the Doctor has already confirmed this Jim." Spock told him.

"Uh…right." Jim hopped up, weak knees not showing. "Okay. I need to go hunt down Rand and get a status report. Oh god. Who'd have ever though I would be saying that?"

"I should accompany you, Captain. It would appear I have much work to do as well." Spock's eyes never left the doctor, a suspicious look in them.

McCoy wiggled his fingers at them, grin never falling. "Have fun boys."

… .. .

It was exactly as bad as he thought it would be. After hours of paperwork and hurt glaring at his crew, Jim gave up, letting his still drug buzzed system take over and falling asleep in the Captain's chair. He woke to the sound of a giggling navigator and incredibly warm arms around his back and knees. He blinked his eyes open to realize Spock was carrying him bridal style to the turbo lift. He squawked and flailed, nearly making his First Officer drop him.

Spock set him down swiftly though. "Captain."

"Uh…Sorry. Guess I fell asleep…" Jim yawned. "Stupid sedatives."

"I believe you have completed most of your work, Captain. Perhaps it would be best if you rested?"

"Mm." Jim nodded. "Come with?"

There was one loud, squeaking sound as every chair on the bridge swiveled around to look at them. Spock's ears went green and Jim's face went red.

"I mean, I don't think I can actually get all the way to my room without collapsing." Jim coughed, trying to right his voice.

"I see." Spock answered. "I should also retire to meditate. It would be no trouble to ensure you reach your rooms safely."

Jim nearly tripped as he turned to walk again. "Oh hell, you did not just make fun of me."

"Correct."

Jim laughed. "Oh god. Okay. I'm tired. Damn Bones and his sedatives anyway. Sulu, can you handle the Conn?"

"Yes sir."

"Make a Captain out of you yet." Jim snickered, dragging Spock into the lift with him.

And when the door shut: "I apologize, Captain."

"For?" Jim frowned, glancing over at Spock, who was quite clearly refusing to make eye contact, staring at the wall panel in front of him like it were the most fascinating specimen Starfleet had brought him in contact with.

Still focused intently on the panel, Spock twitched. "I suppose 'everything' does not work?"

Damn it. Jim's stomach fluttered at having his own words thrown back at him. He should be worried that Spock thought he did something wrong. Instead, his hormones, or whatever was responsible for his infernal crush, were flipping out and having a fucking party every time Spock so much as looked at him. He considered, briefly, that this was some kind of payback from the universe for never going through that as a teenager.

When he didn't answer, Spock continued. "It had been my intent to apologize for questioning your authority after our shift, two days ago. Doctor McCoy's interference has somewhat delayed this."

And then Spock had to go and do something like _that_. Jim glanced quickly at the panel in front of him, heart in his throat. "Thank you."

Spock nodded, seemingly satisfied that his apology had been accepted. Jim glanced over, considered him a moment, and jammed a button on the lift. Spock furrowed his brow ever so slightly, staring at Jim like he were a puzzle and trying to figure out what he'd just done. The lift opened its doors before he could ask and Jim caught his hand and took off.

Spock flushed, staring down at their hands a moment before he recognized the deck they were on, only moments before they arrived outside the holodeck.

"Jim, you are tired. It would be best if you returned to your room."

Jim shook his head, working the console almost angrily. "I _am_ tired, but I know I won't get any sleep. I want to relax."

"And your purpose for including me?"

Jim ducked his head. "You can meditate here, right? I mean, I get it, if you're uncomfortable with it, but…but I could really use you here right now."

Spock stiffened. "You need only ask Jim, and I will stay by your side."

They both stared at each other a moment too long, turning a touching admission into an awkward tension. Jim turned back to the console and finished bringing up the program. Spock's eyes widened, and a small smile tried to work its way onto his face. Jim grinned when he glanced over, running his hand over the waste high grass.

"I do not believe you are in any physical condition to participate in flattening a suitable section of grass." Spock taunted, though there was a moment's hesitation in his voice.

Jim stuck his tongue out. "Bet I could."

Spock glanced at the grass around his waist, then up at Jim. He quirked an eyebrow at him, eyes glinting mischievously second before he launched an attack. Jim yelped as he was brought to the ground before flipping them to straddle Spock's waist. Spock rolled them easily and pinned Jim.

"Concede your loss."

Jim wrapped his legs around his torso and attempted to throw him. Spock growled playfully and pressed Jim further into the matted grass.

"Concede your loss."

Jim chuckled, then yawned, and allowed his legs to drop as he practically melted boneless under Spock. "Yeah, Okay. Mm'tired."

Spock moved off of him, never once considering the awkwardness of their position. "Rest, Jim. I will be here when you wake."

Jim grinned, curling up near where Spock settled into a meditative pose. "Thank you."

Soon, he was dozing. A soft, raspy breathing escaped through his lips, too soft to be a snore, but existent. Spock felt a warm, familiar sensation in his chest, comfort radiating from the very fact Jim was asleep near by. He had not realized how very used to his presence he had come to be over their interactions. Slowly, Spock sighed, relaxing into his meditation, ignorant of how Jim curled closer to him in his sleep. In a shallow meditative state, the remaining drugs in Spock system overtook him and he slumped, sliding to the ground asleep.

Jim curled up against his warm body, asleep mind perfectly aware of what it needed, and pillowed his head against his chest. Spock purred lightly in his sleep, burying his face in Jim's hair.

… .. .

Jim was warm, and his side was wet, and a little itchy and he was starting to wonder if he was ever going to wake up somewhere familiar. Even less familiar was the warm, firm chest he was using as a pillow. What was familiar, however, and therefore brought familiarity to all the other elements, was the spicy scent of his first officer. He knew it was par for the course to be embarrassed that he was cuddling his first officer, especially after admitting he had a crush on him, but somehow it seemed things had gone back to normal.

And that spoke all kinds of hell on his version of normal.

Carefully, aware that Spock was most definitely still asleep because he exhaled these soft little purrs every time he breathed out, Jim squirmed back to look at him. He was blank before him, a relaxed emotionlessness he most likely wouldn't be fully in possession of until he was much older and more comfortable with his emotions. He looked almost young, childlike in his sleep and Jim flushed a little at the content little purr.

Words like adorable weren't allowed to be applied to someone like Spock.

Spock's eyes fluttered, _fluttered_ damn it, open and near black eyes fixed on Jim. Recognition lit them with a strange spark of honey color.

Jim was in his arms.

And had woken before him.

And was now grinning like the cat that caught the canary.

"Morning."

"Ahem. Captain." Spock detangled himself from the other man, lightly green. "I apologize. It is apparent I fell asleep sometime during meditation."

Jim shrugged, stretching. "It didn't bother me…why did it bug you? Shit. I'm sorry. I mean. It wasn't like I did it on purpose but-"

"Jim." Spock had quirked an eyebrow at him as he slowly became hysterical. "I am not overly perturbed by your presence."

"Not _overly_? Thanks." Jim rolled his eyes.

Spock shot him a smile with his eyes and stretched himself as Jim shut down the simulation. It wasn't some time until Jim was doing his paperwork that he realized he hadn't freaked out. He should have freaked out. He'd woken up in some man's arms, and he should have freaked out. And his not freaking out was freaking him out.

He met Spock's eyes across the bridge and couldn't help but grin. And maybe that freaked him out a little too, but it was oddly comforting in a way he was afraid to analyze too long, lest he lose it.

… … .. . .. … …

**Aw, they had a nice moment where they didn't freak out.**

**And yeah, ignore my totally unsubtle method of progressing the story without drama. There can't be drama(ha) if they're asleep.**


	35. Chapter 35

**I don't own Star Trek, or any of the many other things that get referenced here.**

**Thank you all for the well wishes I got. And a big hello to all the people who keep joining this story. You readers make it worth it.**

… … .. . .. … …

Jim squirmed, fiddling with the medals on his chest to make absolutely sure they were straight. McCoy knocked loudly on the frame to his door, not bothering to ask why he even had it open. Jim glanced back and grinned weakly at him. He looked quite the southern gentleman, all dressed for the ball.

"Have I mentioned how horrible I am at espionage? Or what ever this counts as?"

"Did you know that our freshman year alone you managed to flirt and bullshit your way into twenty interplanetary events you didn't have clearance for and diffused a cultural snafu at three of them?"

"I did, didn't I?"

"Why do you think Pike put you in those negotiation classes?"

"You mean they weren't necessary?"

"Come on Jim. We have to beam down now."

"What ever happened to being fashionably late?"

"Not to your own party golden boy."

Jim sighed, removing his hands from his impeccable dress shirt and following Bones to the transporter. Sulu was already there, along with Scotty, Giotto, and Spock. Jim had to tear his eyes from the Vulcan, not the least surprised that his form fitting blue dress shirt was an attention grabber. He knew for a fact that all of their dress shirts were designed to impress.

"Did we beam the hidden members to another ship?"

"Yes sir." Giotto answered immediately, stopping his own fiddling with his dress shirt. "They'll be beaming down with the other dignitaries brought along for this."

"Alright. Where is everyone else?"

"Women folk and Chekov are busy gussying up for the party." Sulu sighed, fingers itching to run through his neatly combed hair. "They said they'll be down in a minute and we should beam without them."

"And Chekov…" Jim shook his head, bemused. "Okay. I guess we'll…Scotty, what the hell are you doing out of the engines?"

"Ah…ahm I naugh allowed to go at the ball?"

"Of course you are! I just…didn't figure you'd want to."

"Knowing what Uhura's going to be wearing tonight, I can't exactly blame him." McCoy smirked, pushing Jim onto the transporter.

"Wait, _Uhura_?"

"Energize." Spock told the woman working the console.

Jim put on his best face immediately as they materialized in the crystal palace, dropping the conversation. It was a beautiful place, just as promised. A few people already meandered around. A round of applause greeted them from a few who recognized them, and someone announced who they were. Jim bowed his head politely, a warm grin on his face, and lead the men with him to commandeer a table.

A few more groups beamed down before the girls arrived. Rand was in a long red dress, hair pulled up in an elaborate beehive with a red mesh netting decorating it. Chapel was decked out in a pale blue and silver gown. Chekov looked adorably out of place in his stuffy high collar. Uhura…Uhura was stunning in a well cut golden evening dress, just managing to cling in the right places and somehow defying gravity as it made soft rustling sounds that shouldn't have been legal.

Not for the first time, Jim realized he had an amazingly photogenic crew. He frowned a little, watching as his crew, who were not masters of subtlety, met up with their dates. Scotty was doing an admiral job of keeping his eyes on Uhura's face. Giotto was, in contrast, _not_ making eye contact, but Rand didn't seem to mind. Bones…what the hell _was_ Bones doing on a date with his head nurse? He was distracted from his musings on their date choices by a hand on his shoulder.

A pleasant, earthy voice sounded behind Jim, full of just enough snark to prove she knew him. "And here I thought they were joking when they said James Kirk would be making an appearance."

Jim whirled around, face pure white as he met the grey-green eyes of a pretty blonde. "Mom!"

"Jimmy!" She squeaked, wrapping him up.

His entire crew turned to look at him, as well as several other patrons. "M-mom. I- What are you _doing_ here?"

"Honey, Christopher had to ask _someone_."

Jim paled further, looking for the world like a teenager that had just been told his parent would be chaperoning the dance. McCoy stepped up, elbowing Jim none too gently.

"Mrs. Kirk. It's a pleasure to meet you. Jim's mentioned you a few times." He kissed her hand politely.

"I'm afraid Jim and I haven't spoken in quite some time. Who are you?" She sent a narrow glance at Jim.

"Leonard McCoy."

"_And_ that is more than enough of you meeting my crew." Jim insisted, pushing her away, and shuddering as he realized she was wearing one of _those_ little black dresses.

"Nonsense." She easily slipped away, heading over to the rest of his crew. "What kind of mother would I be if I didn't take the opportunity to meet your crew?"

"A absentee one?"

Winona paused sharply for a moment, face betraying nothing, and Jim winced. "Uh…This is Uhura, Giotto, Scotty, Rand, Sulu, Chekov, Chapel, and Spock."

"Oh don't mention their positions or anything." She rolled her eyes.

"It's a pleasure to meet the woman who managed to raise him." Uhura smiled.

Winona didn't. "I won't take credit for that. He did most of it himself."

"And you've made this awkward." Jim announced.

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him and Jim felt his chest constrict a little. Winona glanced between them and frowned at McCoy, who shook his head in exasperation. She mouthed 'oh' and grinned like only a Kirk could, so what if she married into it.

"So Mr. Spock. How do you like working with my son?"

"It is often a trial."

She paused a moment, but Jim laughed, so she smiled. "I see."

"Didn't you say Pike was here?" Jim didn't like the way she was looking at Spock, like she knew something.

"With luck, he's speaking with Vina right now." Winona winked. "Took long enough to get that girl out of her shell to go speak with him."

Jim's eyes widened and he busted out laughing. "No way! You're playing match maker with Pike!"

"You should know by now, Jimmy." She narrowed her eyes in an almost threatening way. "I _love_ to meddle in affairs of the heart."

Jim gulped, unsure how to respond when another group beamed down. His spine snapped straight even as the group was announced. When he glanced back at Spock, he could see a moment's uncertainty there. Apparently he didn't know his father was going to be showing up as well. Sarek took no time in spotting Spock and making his way over.

"Father."

"Spock."

They exchanged a Vulcan salute before Sarek greeted everyone else present. Winona smiled politely at him, her own hand forming a rather crude imitation of a greeting.

"I apologize." She told him with a soft smile. "I must be making quite the impression. Hopefully not as poor of one as my son…"

Jim choked on air, glaring at his mother. "Can you go away? You're kind of ruining this for me."

"Of course Jimmy, do be careful?" She placed a kiss on his forehead, which he squirmed and grimaced at. "Mr. Sarek?"

"Mrs. Kirk." He bowed his head lightly and offered his arm to her in a polite gesture as they headed off.

Jim's jaw dropped, and he knew for a fact his wasn't the only one. "That did not just happen."

"Fascinating." Spock tilted his head to the side, watching them leave.

"Oh god this is not going at all as I planned it."

"Because your mother and Spock's father are here?" Sulu asked incredulously. "I don't believe they could possibly be a problem. Relax. Nothing will go wrong."

"You completely underestimate the force of two Kirks in a room together." Jim said with no trace of humor.

"Iz like critical mass in atomic reaction, da?" Chekov beamed at him. "Wery mess if not contained?"

Jim shook his head, glancing around the room. "I need a drink."

"I do not suspect imbibing in alcohol would be a wise decision." Spock informed him, arms coming behind his back at a parade rest. "Nor do I suspect your mother will in any way be harmful to these proceedings."

Jim didn't have time to comment on that as the delegates were released from their meeting and several other parties beamed down in rapid succession. He didn't recognize any of the Cardassians he spotted, but that didn't mean much in the long run. There were quite a few people milling about. Scotty excused himself to go attend the buffet before too many people took interest in it, and several of the others joined him, promising their dates they would bring back a plate for them. Music filled the room as people wandered about chatting and shaking hands, or the general equivalent.

A couple Tellarites were arguing loudly with a pair of Cardassians, and Jim was pleased to note they seemed to be enjoying each others company immensely. He could thank Uhura for that little recommendation of putting the Tellarite delegates closest to the Cardassians. If this wasn't all just a ruse to kill a bunch of people, the negotiations would go fantastically.

At the buffet table, Scotty quickly downed a glass of water before he set about getting food. "Ah do'naught know how long ah can stand looking at the lass like that. She's ah bonny girl, like a warp nacelle after my own heart."

Bones snorted. "Who'd have guessed?"

Sulu clucked his tongue. "Oh man. I think we should beam Chekov back up. Someone's going to freaking _eat_ him if he stays here."

"Well, I can defend him from you, but not much else." Giotto promised, shrugging a little.

"Spock, grab a plate for Jim." McCoy ordered. "Or he'll never get over here to eat. Christ I think Chapel has more meat on her…not that it's…uh…bad…meat…I mean…"

"We get it, you like her curves." Sulu spared him further embarrassment. "Call her meat to her face and she might slap you."

Spock quirked an eyebrow, but did as he was told and selected a mix of foods for the Captain. A few aliens stopped to make their greetings and Spock obliged them before moving on. As they approached the table, they could see a group of women from several planets speaking animatedly with the crew. One woman curled her long fingers around Jim's bicep as she chuckled at a comment of his.

"Captain." Spock interrupted, getting a surprised glance.

Jim watched Spock place the plate on the table in front of him, the woman effectively forgotten. "Oh. Thanks. I would have gotten around to it eventually."

"Doctor McCoy did not believe you would."

The woman pouted a moment and, when she realized Jim was not going to return his attention to her, huffed and walked off. Spock refrained from looking smug, but that didn't stop Sulu and McCoy from sharing a knowing look behind his back. Most everyone took the time to start eating, and the litany of people took note and left the table alone until they finished, or were taking the time to get their own meals.

"How is the meet and greet going, Jim?" McCoy asked as he made a vain attempt to cut Chapel's steak for her.

She was brandishing a knife at him and warning him not to, gentlemanly or not.

"Good. No Cardassians yet." Jim shrugged, speaking around a mouthful of salad. "God, Spock. How do you always know how to please me?"

There was a beat of silence before Sulu started laughing. "Tell me they don't have you giving a speech."

Jim groaned, placing his face in his hands so he wouldn't have to look at his first officer's green ears. "At the end of the ball, yeah. They want me to talk about trust and tolerance and all that."

"Oh boy." Uhura snickered. "Do you have cards?"

"The standard." Jim pulled a small electronic device form his pocket and handed it over. "They only told me about it this morning."

"And you weren't going to tell me?" She snorted, flipping through the digital note cards.

"I. Just. Found. Out. About. It. This. Morning." Jim emphasized each word with a stab of the fruit on the side of his plate, though there was no real malice in his tone. "So no, not if I didn't get a chance."

She winced dramatically, holding the edges of the device like it were set to explode any second. "Good god. Tell me you aren't actually taking pages out of the textbook on this one."

"Public speaking 305." Jim nodded. "Diplomatic treaty dinners, speeches in the face of tragedy, and in-laws."

The table laughed. Uhura puckered her lips. "I'm making changes to this, so be sure to read it before you go up there."

Jim flapped his hand absently at her. "Yeah, sure. Feel free. Just make sure I have ten minutes to read through it."

"Captain Kirk." A man's voice sound behind him.

He glanced up to see the head of the Cardassian delegates and was on his feet in seconds, bowing his head quickly in greeting. "Sir."

"It is a pleasure to finally meet the man we've heard so much about." He spoke politely, and Jim noticed, for the first time, a young girl with him, no older than sixteen. "My daughter would request a waltz with you."

Jim smiled, managing not to leer instinctually because that would be creepy on so many levels. "Of course."

The girl was silent as he lead her to the dance floor. Eyes caught on them as they went. Jim had never really been nervous about being the first person on the dance floor, but this was his senior prom all over again. Everyone watching to see if he tripped over his own feet, because there was no way they were going out there if the first person on the floor embarrassed themselves. Except, his senior prom didn't have quite as many aliens and wasn't possibly being tracked by Klingons as far as he knew.

The waltz started up, and Jim was careful to lead her smoothly through the motions. She kept her eyes fixed steadily on the medal on his chest and he couldn't help but feel a little sorry for her, having to dance with him because of her father.

In his periphery, he caught another couple moving onto the dance floor and realized it was Spock, being accosted by another Cardassian. He tried to keep his grin down. And that was all the prompting people needed as the dance floor was suddenly flooded. The other dancers weren't really much of an obstacle, but he was mindful of them anyway. It wouldn't do to back into someone and expose the phaser he was keeping concealed on his hip.

As soon as the waltz finished, she practically ran away from him. Within seconds another woman was asking him to dance. He readily agreed. It continued like that for several dances, and he lost track of where his crew had gotten to. Finally, amid groans of disappointment, he bowed out and returned to the table.

McCoy was sprawled across his seat, dress shirt partially undone and hair slightly mussed. Scotty looked no better. Jim plopped down, wishing he had the bravery to undo his shirt, but knowing he'd end up in the bathroom fixing it before he could go up to speak. That just wasn't worth it.

"Where are your lovely dates?" Jim snickered.

"Fixing their _hair_." McCoy growled. "Because apparently a waltz is too fast paced for them."

Scotty sighed. "Ah dare say the lass won't be content till me feet have fallen off."

"So wait, what is this thing between you and Uhura?" Jim leaned forward, propping himself up on his elbows.

Scotty squirmed. "Ah…nothing yet."

"Yet?" Jim leaned back in surprise and glanced at McCoy, who was shaking his head and smiling. "And what about you, Bones? I never figured you'd go for Chapel."

"Christine is a nice girl." McCoy told him, scowling a little. "And it's just a dance."

Jim whistled. "Uh huh. I see how it is. Where the hell is Sulu?"

"My guess? Still dancing with Chekov."

Jim nearly spit out his water, a mischievous grin sliding up on his face. "No way. He finally came out with it and just told the kid he liked him?"

"I believe they came to some agreement about not having any girls on the ship they wanted to ask, but not wanting to go alone." McCoy shrugged easily. "So no, the boy still has no clue. And Sulu's going to adamantly deny any feelings for him until the day he dies. Or one of them comes close enough anyway."

Jim sighed, shaking his head affectionately. "Is everyone on my crew falling in love?"

"I don't know Jim, you tell me." McCoy fixed him with a look that made him flush.

"So have you seen Natima?" Jim switched tracks quickly in an obvious bid to change the subject. "I would have figured she'd have been invited."

He saw the twin looks of horror on their faces and wondered what he'd done when Spock sat down on his left. His movements were extremely stiff, and Jim realized he must have said that loud enough Spock could hear. And he thought…

"I'm just going to shut up so I don't stick my foot in my mouth again." Jim sighed.

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him. "You are not, at current, placing any appendages in your mouth."

Jim grinned. "But I'm totally flexible enough to do it."

"Stop reading off skills for your sex resume." McCoy warned him.

"I am so glad I missed that part." Uhura said as she approached the table.

Jim watched her not so subtly place her hand on Scotty's shoulder. He really, _really,_ needed to give them lessons on tact because it was like getting hit with a brick there. It never occurred to him that maybe that was the point.

He nudged Spock under the table with his knee, and earned a much more understated glance from the Vulcan. He rolled his eyes, letting them land first on his handsy communication's officer, and then on the head nurse who had scooted her chair over enough to make the doctor uncomfortable. Spock's eyebrow twitched and Jim had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

"You seem to be quite the proficient dancer." A Cardassian woman said as she approached from behind Bones.

It took Jim a moment to realize her eyes were fixed on him. "Thank you, but I really have no experience with it."

She smiled, and glanced over at Spock who bowed his head to her. Jim recognized her as the woman who had been dancing with him previously. So why was she approaching Jim?

"Nonsense, you move like a natural." She argued politely.

Jim shook his head. "I move like a clumsy man with a very good teacher."

She cocked her head to the side questioningly and Jim introduced her to Uhura, laying on thick her skills and cultural knowledge. Uhura sent him a sweet glare across the table before delving into a cursory background of her knowledge. It became rapidly apparent the woman was another xenobiologist. Jim shuddered to think how many were trying(or pretending) to transition from making targeted poisons and weapons, to studying other cultures with good intentions.

"You know, a waltz wasn't the only thing I taught him." Uhura grinned mischievously.

Jim's spine snapped straight in an imitation of Spock, who oddly enough stiffened at that statement as well. The Cardassian had taken the bait, hook, line, and bobber, and was peering intently at him. As Uhura explained the _excruciating_ details of what she went through to teach them both a native Cardassian dance, Jim resisted the urge to make an excuse to bolt out of the room.

The woman gave Jim a very pleased, very predatorily smile. "Would you do me the honors of a dance?"

"Ah…Does the band even know-"

"I can make the request. I'm sure they will be familiar with it." She interrupted quickly before turning on her heel and disappearing in the direction of the band.

Jim seethed. "Uhura, next time we're involved in cultural exchange, don't."

McCoy shook his head and Uhura patted Jim's hand in mock sympathy. A few seconds later the waltz died down and people dispersed from the dance floor in mild confusion. He distinctly spotted Sulu whispering to Giotto as they tucked into one corner. The woman reappeared from the middle of nowhere and Jim made a show of overtly cordial behavior and lead her to the dance floor. He caught Pike's eye as he did, a mildly exasperated, amused smile.

In the center of the room, Jim resisted the urge to close his eyes and take a deep breath. He needed to see the eyes on him, know they were watching.

Uhura shuddered as she watched them start to dance. If Jim had been purely professional dancing with her, he was practically clinical with the Cardassian woman. Most of the room watched with a sense of awed detachment. The other Cardassians, who took the floor not long after, were far more critical in their evaluation of his performance.

The whole floor turned into an intricate mechanism, each person dancing not only with their partner, but with the group as a whole. Scotty caught her wistful look and loudly declared that Spock should dance with her at least once. They made their way to the floor as the remainder of the party made their way back to the table.

Jim's eyes managed to find the pair through the crowed and he quickly refocused on the woman in his arms. She was pretty. And enthusiastic.

His chest constricted painfully. No. He couldn't, wouldn't, think like that. Not any more. It wasn't who he was. Who he wanted to be. That wasn't his life. A wave of nausea crashed over him and he excused himself quickly, running from the dance floor. He closed his eyes so he couldn't see everyone else's follow him out. He was grateful, momentarily, for the privacy of the washrooms, made from an opaque crystal.

His head was spinning, and no matter how much water he splashed on his face, he seemed to retain the same slightly warm, clammy feel. He considered briefly that he was having some reaction to something in the room, and dismissed it just as quickly. The only thing he was having a reaction to was himself. Was it possible to be allergic to yourself? Another question for Bones.

"Captain Kirk."

Jim nearly shrieked, rounding on Sarek with wide eyes. Sarek quirked an eyebrow at him, and Jim wondered if he was the only one to have trouble doing that. Sarek was kind enough to wait for most of Jim's color to return to his face before he began speaking.

"I was not previously capable of finding the necessary time or privacy to make enquiries of you. May I do so now?"

"Sure." Jim squeaked, coughed to right his voice, and smiled nervously.

"What are your intentions with my son?"

Jim finally understood the expression 'floored' as his knees buckled suddenly and he hit the ground. Sarek twitched, but that was the only inclination that he considered catching him. Jim stared at the wall a moment, trying to reboot his brain. When the question didn't just go away, though, he braced himself on the counter and stood back up.

"M-my intentions?"

"What is your intended relationship with my son?" Sarek almost sounded hesitant, like he wasn't sure it was safe for Jim if he asked the question.

Jim nodded to say he understood the question had been exactly what he was afraid it was. After a second, he pulled down his best captainly face and managed to straighten himself out. "Spock is my most valuable colleague, and my friend. I intend to keep it that way."

Sarek raised both eyebrows minutely. "So you do not harbor romantic interest towards my son?"

Jim almost swore he sounded disappointed, and flushed brightly. "I…uh…" Why was lying to him so freaking hard? "I didn't say _that_. The interest is there, just not the intent."

Sarek's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I presume you understand the serious nature of romantic interactions with Vulcans?"

Jim paled. "I didn't mean it like that! I don't- I'm not- I-i mean I would _never_…"

And that hit him far worse than the fact that Sarek was bearing down on him like he'd just admitted to having a condom in his pocket on a first date with his daughter. It was a unique look that Jim had encountered on more than one occasion…

He would never. He couldn't say he respected Spock more than that, because he'd made those kinds of mistakes with women he truly respected. He couldn't say he was being culturally sensitive because yeah, he wasn't. The fact was he just couldn't have a physical relationship with him. He would never have the kind of intimacy that came along with things like romance with Spock.

Sarek took an alarmed step back as Jim's eyes brimmed with tears. "I'd never have that kind of relationship with him."

The elder man glanced at the door, betraying how very, _very_ nervous he was. "I understand. You should be aware, I will support whatever relationship my son chooses to foster with you."

A few tears leaked out as he squeezed his eyes shut. Because that was just it, wasn't it? It didn't even matter, that he couldn't have a relationship with Spock because of how damaged he was, because he'd never even had a chance. Someone had to want to have a relationship with you for you to screw it up. And that just made everything he'd ever done seem so stupid. He choked out a laugh, throat tightening at the memories.

Sarek backed quickly out of the room, recognizing he'd obviously gone too far and deeming it best to give Kirk his privacy. The only sign the Vulcan was rattled was his slightly paler expression.

… .. .

Spock watched Jim leave the dance floor in a hurry, but finished the dance with Uhura. She was far too perceptive to not notice if he were to stop dancing with her simply to follow Jim. Once the Cardassian song finished, as he made his way off the dance floor, another waltz started up. Eyes locked on the exiting hallway, he saw his father slip off after Jim. Before he could move in that direction, a strong, almost familiar hand caught his arm. He glanced sideways the see Winona watching him intently.

"Dance with me."

As it wasn't a request, he was given no room to protest. Winona took his hand easily, and he was met with a shrewd wash of feeling. There was no real emotion he could feel, but something familiar in the gauzelike sensation against his mind. She didn't appear to be restraining herself, simply keeping her emotions wrapped up tight where she could keep track of them.

"You like Jim, don't you?" Her voice whispered inches from his ear as she rested her head against his shoulder in a matronly manner.

He stiffened. "Like has variable definitions."

"So does what you feel for him." She pulled back to look at him, small smirk in place.

Spock didn't blush, but his face felt a bit warmer with the effort. "A perplexing and grammatically incorrect statement."

"A sentence fragment." She countered. "I hate to break you out just when you're getting started in the grammar department, but you know what I meant."

"…Indeed." He furrowed his brow, trying to recognize the sensation of her emotions.

"Look." She sighed, earning the quirk of an eyebrow. "Jimmy…he has a past. Not the one you're aware of, I'm sure. But there are things…"

"Are you fully aware of his past?" His voice snapped a little.

He couldn't imagine her knowing, actually knowing. Not with how she left Jim. Because if she knew, and let him try to cope on his own, with a man made of vitriol, he could not forgive her. And he could not possibly reconcile her actions with those of a parent if she had known. It was her turn to draw her brows together.

"I suppose I don't." There was a hint in her voice that she had always known there was something he didn't tell her, and she wanted nothing more than to force it out of Spock now. She didn't. "That actually illustrates my point perfectly. You may think Jim has shared it all. That he's opened up. He hasn't."

"I do not presume to make assumptions about your relationship with Jim. Do not presume to make them about mine."

"Damn it Spock." She hissed a little. "I'm trying to help you here. Jim's never going to open up more than he thinks he has to. And that's never enough. It may seem like he's just a big puppy, or a sehlat, that's latched onto you and wants nothing more to please you but it's just an act."

Spock stiffened at the mention of the native Vulcan animal. "He-"

"He's a le-matya, a cat, a snake, a creature that will take all it can get, and give only as much as it has to in return." She interrupted. "I know this seems cruel from his own mother but I don't want him to hurt you. He won't even realize he's doing it."

Though no tears spilled from her eyes, he could feel the liquid sadness she felt slip through her lacy hold like fat tears splashing against his shields. "You regret the way Jim is?"

She sighed, shaking her head and looking at him with mournful eyes. "Yes. But more I regret letting him get that way."

Spock with drew his hands from her. "Our discussion is over."

She folded her arms over her chest. "Fine, but eventually you're going to fall for those big blue eyes and don't be surprised when all you find is your heart on the ground next to you."

Spock glanced away, seeing his father reenter the room. "You may find Vulcans have incredible reflexes and always land on their feet."

He left her gaping at him. He briefly considered going after Jim, only to see him step back into the room. Two bright apples of color were visible on his cheeks even from the distance he was at. They had not dissipated by the time they both reached the table.

"Hey Bones, I don't suppose you have something that could settle my stomach?" Jim asked without so much as a glance at Spock.

McCoy scowled. "Are you feeling sick? Was it the food? Should we beam you back up? You're red, do you feel warm? You aren't having a reaction, are you? Sit down."

"I'm fine." Jim complied with his demand though. "I'm just feeling a bit nervous."

McCoy eyed him critically a moment before pulling out the bag Jim was sure he hadn't had when they beamed down. "Alright. I understand. I'm starting to feel sick just sitting here and thinking about your speech."

Jim grinned reassuringly at him. "Come on, Uhura's been looking over it."

"Speaking of which." Uhura handed his device back over.

"Yeah," McCoy injected the necessary hypo, and Jim's color looked better immediately. "But if something is going to go wrong, that's when it will happen."

Jim grimaced. "I know. _Everyone_ knows. But nothing's going to go wrong, so stop worrying."

"It is foolish to assume that, given the calculations-"

"Stop." Jim told him sharply. "Stop undermining my attempt at a pep talk. If you weren't so damn smart I wouldn't want you in a position of leadership."

The table went very quiet, the room practically roaring around them to make up for the lost sound. Spock's hand shook as he set down his water glass, and he quickly excused himself. Jim stared after him a moment, mouth hanging open.

"I've got him." McCoy told him, racing after the rebuked officer.

Spock didn't stop for him when he caught up.

"Hold up Spock. He didn't mean it and you know it."

"I am aware." Spock finally came to a stand still, out of sight of the table, and gave him a baleful look. "However, in my agitation, I nearly gave response…"

"Ah." McCoy gave him a look of pure understanding. "The tension is high. Jim would have understood. Come back to the table and hit Jim upside the head with some of that logic of yours."

Spock quirked an eyebrow. McCoy smirked at him and they headed back to the table. The crew was exceptionally good at hiding how surprised they were in the success of the doctor's mission. Jim glanced up from where he was trying and failing to read his new speech.

"I apologize if my phrasing was particularly pessimistic. In a more pragmatic phrasing, it would be relevant to point out that, invariably, something always follows at least one definition of wrong when you are involved, Captain."

Jim gaped, having successfully registered that Spock was mocking him. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Spock's eyes crinkled with the slightest smile. "I believe you are quite aware of the meaning behind my statement."

"Ambiguity too?" Jim grinned. "Stop distracting me. I'm supposed to be learning to communicate."

Spock took a seat and discussion continued, somewhat, as normal. Jim cast a grin at him, and for the moment, everything was right between them once again.

… … .. . .. … …

**What's this? Only one break between the entire thing? Cool.**

**So this whole chapter was pretty fun to write for some reason. I really enjoyed the interactions. Especially the parental interactions…**

**Kept the angst to a minimum for this chapter. There's more than enough of that coming up.**


	36. Chapter 36

**I don't own.**

_**To dreamschemer: I'm really glad you like my writing. I'm sorry if it come off as over dramatized. Frankly, it is. Every point you made is extremely valuable and trust me when I say some of that will coming back to bite them in a later chapter. And you're right, it isn't a healthy relationship being portrayed between Jim and Spock. Hopefully this isn't too cliché and overdone for you to still enjoy it.**_

**And to every one else, you know I always appreciate you. Please, enjoy.**

… … .. . .. … …

The music came to an end late into the night and a parade of ambassadors crossed the staged, delivering speech after speech. The first two seemed interesting, but soon Jim, Sulu, and Giotto were trading pinches to keep each other focused. Uhura and Rand were counting off how many ways the ambassadors could say the exact same thing. Chapel was counting the number of times they repeated themselves. McCoy was counting the number of times they paused, 'um'ed and 'ah'ed. Chekov was stifling yawns every few seconds.

Spock was pointedly ignoring them.

By the time the last ambassador turned it over to Jim, he almost missed his cue. The only people watching the stage were his coworkers and family. He tapped his shoe on the crystal, glanced at the old fashioned looking speaker prop, and grinned.

Three sharp, beautiful ringing notes filled the air as Jim slammed the metal speaker down against the crystal. As the last note came to a silent close, Jim wondered on the tried and true effectiveness of metal on crystal. So his glass was a castle filled with people instead of a goblet of champagne, still a great sound. Everyone was riveted on him as Jim straightened his shirt.

"Evening." Jim smirked, earning a few smiles. "That makes a pretty cool sound, hu?"

And several people chuckled, relieved that it was clearly not going to be the usual. From where he stood, Jim could see the disapproving drop of Uhura's shoulders.

"More than anyone else, you all know what it means to accept people who aren't like you." Jim considered it his solemn duty to deviate from the cards. "You wouldn't be here now if you didn't. And maybe it doesn't mean the same thing to everyone here, but it isn't my place to tell you what it should mean to you."

People perked up, and a few understanding nods hesitantly made themselves known. Jim grinned at the crowed. He could do this. They'd see what he meant. His whole body seemed to be humming with raw energy.

"Everything is about choices, opportunity, constantly moving towards what we feel is the best. As a whole, we make mistakes. People are hurt, and we heal. We move on. We come back together. Even if we weren't there to start." Jim's eyes caught on Spock and his grin became a little bashful. "Over the last few months, I've come to understand the Federation like I never had. Once, I was a rebel. A terror. And I considered the Federation, and Starfleet, my enemy. I thought they stood for everything I despised."

A few people shifted restlessly. Pike was offering him a small, warning smile.

Jim shook his head. "Hell, when I first started going to classes, all I could think about was how they'd prove my point eventually and I'd be vindicated. But…the more I see, the more I know, the more I change. I…I couldn't imagine being anywhere else. All my worries, all my troubles, all my quirks, I've found a place for them. I wasn't asked to change. I was given a place to suit me, exactly as I was. And I've come to understand, to respect and to love the people I work with, no matter how different they are from me."

He pointedly didn't look at his crew, to keep from getting too emotional. If a few Cardassians were starting to look guilty, Jim didn't show how much it worried him. It was possible there was just remorse at having waited so long. And it was possible he was half Orion. Shit.

"This isn't about me. This is about all the planets that have found their way into the federation. Have been welcomed and have welcomed in spite of past transgressions on both sides. This is about all the people that can find a place without having to change. I-" Jim froze, glancing around the room.

He could swear there was a buzzing sound. Slowly, other people began glancing around too. Spock and Sarek were both inspecting near by walls, placing hands against the crystal. Jim felt like his whole body was trying to shake itself apart on a subatomic level.

All at once, the palace began to shake, a high, humming sound droning at such a high frequency it brought tears to Jim's eyes. He fumbled for the earplugs in his pocket, watching others do the same. The earthquake was six hours early. Unfortunate, but not entirely unplanned for. Even with the ear plugs, it pierced his skull, a sharp, clear note that was nearly inescapable. It was through this that two low thuds seemed to register in an surreal way.

Jim blanched. He knew that sound. Was intimately familiar with it. All his life he'd been picking himself up after it.

"Get down!" Jim screamed into the speaker, drawing his phaser even as men flooded in through the main entry way.

Not men. Klingons. Phaser shots rang out and every member of Starfleet personnel returned fire. Jim dived off the stage, skidding across the floor as he raced towards the front. Being a target was the least of his worries. He needed Scotty to-

A bright beam of white flashed to his side and Jim caught the surprised looks of several people as they were beamed up.

"Fucking yeah!" Jim hollered as he spotted Scotty, looking smug behind an overturned table.

The vibrations were supposed to interfere with beaming. And they would have, too, if Jim and Spock hadn't accounted for the time they would be trapped if that happened and had Scotty and Chekov calibrate them to function with the frequency already worked around. Every Federation ship was beaming up civilians on his order.

"Where did everyone split to?" Jim hollered over the din as a well placed shot of his downed a Klingon.

"The lasses and the doctor are corralling ev'ryone to make it a might bit easier on the lads beaming them up." Scotty told him, laying a cover fire for some delegates.

"Alright. Keep up the good work." Jim told him, spotting Spock and Chekov.

With a few quick blasts, and not near enough warning, he bolted over to where they were. Chekov squeaked when he slid in next to them. Spock glanced momentarily at him before continuing to fire.

"Analysis Mr. Spock?" Jim didn't grin, because it was a massacre, and grinning wasn't appropriate in this situation, but a touch of battle giddiness settled in his chest, along with the long forgotten buzzing.

"It would appear they are following 'Plan J' as we outlined it. The Cardassians delegates have exited under the Klingon cover fire and are non-combative." Spock ducked to avoid a shot. "Nearly all non-Starfleet personnel have been beamed aboard."

"If you spot Giotto, have him start a strategic pull back to a more defendable position. Just like we planed." Jim told him. "Sulu 's on the Enterprise commanding it, right?"

"Da." Chekov gasped, firing off another shot and squeezing his eyes shut for a split second, before opening them with a cold blue resolve. "Iz jus' as planned. He iz leading ships against enemy wessles."

"Good." Jim fired off a few shots over Chekov's shoulder. "Good. Pike should have been beamed back up to his ship too. Non-combatant personnel will be going up next. Hold out here as long as you have to."

"What do you intend to do?" Spock asked, not looking over at him.

"Me? I'm running this show." Jim bolted straight through the room, sliding behind several overturned tables and hopping over the last to land in the middle of several huddling non-combatants. "Hi."

"Jim you reckless…" McCoy shook his head and snarled, patching a wound on one man's leg.

"Hey, I haven't gotten shot yet." Jim took a shot over the table top. "Non-combatants are up next."

"The hell I'm in that group." McCoy snarled. "I'm staying down here as long as there are people that need a field medic."

"Jim." Uhura called from a few tables over. "Sulu sent Scotty a message. There's a Klingon armada staging an attack. Just like you said there would be."

Jim glanced over, and didn't have a moment to spare for the golden dress that had been sheered off to mid-thigh. "It's a good thing we're prepared for it then."

Jim shook his head to clear it, the vibrations of the room sinking in bone deep. McCoy gave him a quick glance, deemed him unimportant, and continued his work. The room was shaking around him, but his hands were as steady as ever. After this, his crew had better as hell be getting some kind of shore leave. With a careening step, as his muscles were beginning to protest movement alongside the constant abuse of the tremors, Jim lunged from his hiding spot to let loose a volley of shots.

The group of Klingons that had pinned a few officers fell with a splatter of pink. Jim dove behind cover as several shots whizzed past. He bit back a groan of protest as he struck his ulnar nerve in his right arm, numbing from the elbow down. With a soft swear, he switched hands and peered around the corner of his shelter. Giotto was a couple tables up, laying down fire as a few personnel scuttled back. Jim sprayed the group in front of him, and Giotto took the chance to run backwards.

The ringing died with a suddenness that threw Jim off balance. He hit the ground with a hard slap, and watched as several others scrambled back to cover, running past the bodies of their fallen comrades.

Before he could scramble back, he watched a Klingon bring up a distinctly Starfleet gun, no doubt picked off a dead body. The light on front switched from red to blue in the same second, set to stun. His eyes followed the sights, and his heart pumped cold for a second.

Spock.

He was moving before he could think. Instinctually, he knew he would be too late if he took the time to bring his gun to bear. It was only three steps. Three steps into the line of fire. Twelve steps to Spock. Eleven and a half once he'd stepped into the line of fire. Five steps to the Klingon now in front of him. A phaser shot moves faster. Everything went black before he could even buckle.

Spock had turned just as Jim broke cover. He couldn't have brought his phaser up in time if he had known what he was turning into.

His heart froze and he saw green as Jim dropped. A small, logical part of his mind noted the blue glow, tried to register that Jim was still alive. He leapt towards Jim, firing off shots as he tried desperately to get to him. Chekov was shouting something frantically. Spock weaved to the side, narrowly missing a killing blow. A Klingon had reached Jim and hoisted him over his shoulder. Nearly everyone was shouting now. He fired off shots with fury, frantically aware that there was nothing he could do. They had Jim. They had Jim and he couldn't get him back.

A blinding light filled the room as the Klingons beamed up. The room was silent for a split second before Scotty shouted for everyone to be beamed up immediately. Spock stared at where Jim had been a second before as his atoms were ripped apart. He was already moving as he appeared on the transport pad.

McCoy and Uhura were running right beside him as he raced to the bridge. Everyone looked up at him as he stormed on. Chekov was already in his seat, glancing up nervously. Sulu jumped to his feet.

"The Klingons are disengaging. Two ships have already warped."

"Track them." Spock snapped. "Uhura. Hail the remaining ships."

People jumped into action, eyes wide. Spock glanced sideways at Uhura, and caught sight of his father and Winona, staring at him. Winona had a fearful, understanding look in her eyes. There were only two reasons Jim wouldn't beam up.

"They've blocked us. They're just leaving!" Uhura shouted, frustrated. "They can't do that. That goes against every code of war."

"The Cardassians don't care nothing for codes." Bones spat, slamming his fist into the railing. "Shit. Jim!"

"What happened down there?" Sulu demanded.

Spock closed his eyes, fisting his hands at his side. "Captain Kirk has been take prisoner."

He was deaf to the gasps and one distinct sob that sounded like Rand. Everything seemed to still in that moment. Where the last few moments were unnaturally fast, the seconds drug on for that to sink it. It was real. He'd said it, and it was real. And no one could forget what usually happened to Captains taken prisoner in times of war. But still, to offer no ransom or demands, to make no statement about it, it just wasn't normal.

"Sir, we've found traces of their ion trail." One science officer broke the silence. "They, they appear to be heading into a heavily ionized sector of space, perhaps to hide."

"Uhura, issue a correspondence to Admiral Pike. Chekov, plot a course following their trail. Sulu follow at max warp."

"You can't just chase him down." Winona announced. "Not only is that against Starfleet policy, but it's dangerous. You could be playing right into their hands."

"Then what would you have me do?" Spock demanded of her, eyes flashing with anger.

"There will be negotiations-"

"No!" Spock raised his voice, shaking everyone. "I will not wait for negotiations and Starfleet bureaucracy."

"Spock-" Sarek started.

"Jim would not wait."

"Jim didn't wait." McCoy added, backing Spock up. "Spock is currently commander of this ship. It's at his discretion if we go."

Winona shook his head. "Brave boys just get themselves killed, Spock. What do you have to loose by waiting?"

"Jim." Spock told her.

"I em vith Kommander Spock." Chekov announced, plotting the course. "I vill not loose Keptin."

"So am I." Sulu declared. "Jim is our Captain. I'll be damned if I wait around. We could have lost Earth if we waited, and we can loose Jim."

"I've already told Pike as much." Uhura told her. "So get off if you want off, but we _want_ Jim. And we won't abandon him when he needs us most."

"I believe my son is correct." Sarek told her. "I will stay and offer any assistance I can."

Winona closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Well god damn it what are we waiting for?"

… .. .

Jim would find it bitterly funny, later, that he instantly recognized the feeling of an operating table as he started to wake. His body ached and he could feel the too tight metal cuffs holding his arms up above his head and pinning his legs. He was cold, his head pounding from the stunning shot he was hit with. It didn't take a genius of Kirk's level to know where he was.

Cautiously, he edged his eyes open, giving him a narrow sliver of vision. He could fuzzily make out his surroundings, a medical room on a Klingon vessel. He took a slow breath, keeping his heart rate down. His body felt heavy, sluggish. A quick inventory told him he had been stripped to his boxers and he could feel a needle in his arm. He didn't turn to make sure he was correct, not wanting to alert his captors if he could help it. It didn't particularly sound like anyone was around, but he needed all the time he could get to assess his situation.

It was looking rather bleak.

A door sounded somewhere in the room and he could barely make out someone murmuring in Klingon. A lower voice, more natural to the language, responded and heavy footsteps came to his side. He was defenseless. He knew it. There was no move Jim could make that would defend him.

A cold sensation pressed against his neck and all of his nerves seared to life. His eyes flew open involuntarily and his mouth opened in a silent gasp of pain. Standing over him were two men, a tall Cardassian who was nearly the height of the Klingon next to him. The Cardassian man looked pleased to see his expression. The Klingon was impassive.

"Good morning, Captain Kirk." The Cardassian spoke with pure venom. "So glad you could join us."

"What do you want with me?" Jim asked, voice steady and commanding.

"To make an example of you." The man replied.

The Klingon shifted ever so slightly. Jim scowled.

"What, going to try to get information out of me or something?" Jim spat. "I don't know what you think you'll accomplish, but you won't succeed."

"Tsk tsk captain. We have no real further use for you." The man shrugged. "You couldn't tell us anything we wanted to know, but you were useful for getting away from that planet."

"Then what?"

"It wasn't really part of the plan, but imagine how the federation will feel, seeing what we've done to their precious golden boy." The Cardassian turned on his heel and left.

The Klingon watched him go, face filled with rage. "They are a dishonorable kind."

"So why are you working with them? Why sacrifice your own men in such a dishonest way?" Jim demanded.

If he could stop interplanetary incidents, he could sure as hell start them. All he had to do was work their differences, create dissatisfaction. All he had to do was make them hate each other. And if Jim ever had a natural talent, it was starting fights.

The Klingon gritted his teeth. "They sacrificed their own in deceiving you. Volunteered to die, to be wounded, for their cause, to redeem themselves. We die only in battle."

"And what the fuck are you doing with me?"

He twitched, but set a stony look on his face. "Do you know, they haven't even acknowledged your capture? You're ours to do with as we please."

Jim clenched his jaw. It was worse than he thought. If they weren't negotiating, if they weren't asking for anything…But they didn't want anything. And Jim understood what they meant, that they were going to make an example of him. He understood what they were going to do. He met the disinterested eyes of the Klingon man, blue defiance flashing in his own. He wasn't afraid.

The man nodded. "You're brave. You'll do yourself an honor."

Jim didn't shut his eyes. He would watch this if it killed him. And feel it. His nerves still sang, whatever they injected him with hyper-sensitizing him. Every nerve prickled, the feedback tremendous. Instinct told him the drugs pumping into his arm were only going to make it worse.

A meaty fist slammed into his stomach and he coughed. So that was what being punched by a blooded Klingon felt like. Just like he remembered.

A few more hits rained on his stomach and chest. It was nothing and they both knew it. A test. A measure of his resistance. A waste of time. And Jim knew, _knew_ that he was stalling. He wasn't proud of himself. Wasn't proud of what he was being forced to do. It wasn't how a Klingon should fight. Jim wondered if that would matter. He doubted it.

The blows fell for what felt like hours, his stomach quivering under the fierce hits. Never, in his life, did he imagine he would actually thank his experience with being hit for the pain tolerance it built up. It all washed together in a wave of pain, every hit in his life, every fist broken on him, the moments in between lost. For a moment, he forgot there was ever anything but pain.

And the blows stopped. Slowly, he started to crawl out of his mental shield and back to the world around him. He was still bolted down. He could feel the blood pooling under his skin in awful bruises. He could imagine the bruises on his organs, Bones' voice screaming about blunt force trauma. But McCoy wasn't there. He was still bolted down, staring at the back of a Klingon.

Jim caught the barest glint of metal, and spit blood he hadn't known was in his mouth. "I hope you die of old age in a meadow somewhere."

The Klingon rounded on him with a roar, and Jim figured he wouldn't miss that tooth. It wasn't the first one he'd had to replace. Surgical steel glinted menacingly at him from the Klingon's hand. For a moment, he had forgotten there was anything but pain in the world. He remembered now, that there were other horrors too.

The blade didn't so much sink into his chest, as it skimmed across it. He remembered, quite distinctly, the seventh grade health class that told him you could feel the most at your nerve endings, just below the surface of the skin. As the skin came to life with a fire so hot it froze, Jim remembered that lesson well. He bit the inside of his cheek, drawing blood to keep from screaming. One layer. Two. Each pass was swift and precise. If the drug in his system had seemed cruel before, when it heightened the blows to his body, it was malicious now, each keen nerve reporting back to him the sensation of dieing.

But it ended. There was still a hole, but he was no longer sinking into it. The moment the blade stopped moving over his skin, Jim scoffed, opening his eyes and locking them with the Klingon's. No fear. No pain. This, this was nothing. This was nothing like the things he'd subjected himself to in the past, held no candle to some of the damage he'd done just on his own ship.

The Klingon headed to the wall, began speaking in Klingon to another voice. The Cardassian from before? It didn't matter. He sounded frustrated. Jim laughed.

… .. .

He didn't know how long he was left for, just that no one had been in to see him, to hurt him. If he didn't know better, he'd have said they gave up. The room had been plunged into darkness, like the lack of light would somehow break him.

Jim couldn't see, when someone finally entered, but he heard the footsteps approach. No use struggling. He sat calm, waiting, a fierce image of patience and indifference. He felt the hypo at his neck, and didn't so much as flinch.

He snorted. "That worked so well for you last time, didn't it?"

There was no response, physical or spoken. Jim scowled into the darkness. Somewhere, there was a soft tap, that seemed to go on forever, twisting itself around him. He felt a small bubble of panic in his chest. There were footsteps, then, but not really. The sounded nothing like footsteps should. His breathing picked up the pace ever so slightly, and it sounded unnatural in his ears.

"What are you doing to me?" His voice wasn't his own, too fast and slow, a perversion. It sounded all wrong, and Jim knew it was the drugs in his system.

There was a laugh, twisting and warping, melting on itself in the air around him. "You mean what have we done?"

The voice. That voice, twisted on itself, came back sounding like him. Like he should sound. Jim shuddered. No. It wasn't him. It couldn't be.

"You can't hurt me. You can't do anything."

"How funny, that all you're worried about is yourself." The voice, not his voice, laughed, mocking.

"I don't-"

"Understand?" Jim shivered, he wouldn't listen. "You're so worried about yourself, you don't look around. You honestly think you 're going to get hurt? By what? Your friends innocence? Don't make me laugh."

"Stop."

"You're poison Kirk. Poison. You seep into everything you touch and taint it." The voice accused. "How long do you think they have, until you've soiled them? _Infected_ them with your sickness."

"Stop!" Jim's voice cracked with a sob.

"You're so worried they'll hurt you. So worried you'll suffer. What about them, Kirk? You think you can't have their companionship for your own sake, but what about them? Who will you hurt, like you were hurt before? Who have you already?"

Jim tried to turn from the voice, but it surrounded him. "No. No! I won't!"

"Yes. You will. You already have." It taunted.

The Cardassian and the Klingon stood over his writhing form, watching his mouth open and close wordlessly. The Klingon turned from him with a sneer.

"This is dishonorable."

"Nonsense." The Cardassian grinned. "It's progress. The drugs coursing through his system were designed to produce untold horrors."

"He can not fight against this." The Klingon protested.

"We don't want him to fight!" The Cardassian snarled. "Or did you miss the point of torturing him?"

The Klingon stared down at him; Jim continued to mouth words, arguing with himself. "It seems I am missing much."

… .. .

Twelve hours. It's amazing, how long you can keep going with single minded determinism. The bridge was eerily quiet. Every few minutes, someone would twitch, releasing the tension in their muscles. They were exhausting all resources to find their captain. Starfleet's official opinion on it was a staunch disapproval that they didn't wait for agreement, but no recourse was to be given, at current. Pike mentioned a few dissenters.

"Spock." Uhura's voice broke the calm of the bridge, sending up a stutter of attention.

"Yes, Nyota?" Spock stood from where he was tampering with the science station with his father.

"They're breaking the silence." Her voice was a low growl. "Every free channel is being flooded with a feed frequency."

"Bring it up." He ordered.

Winona looked up from where she was discussing what they could do to the ship to help find her son, with Scotty. "You said every channel?"

"Yes." Uhura answered even as she brought the frequency up on the screen.

"Fuck all." She whispered softly. "There was a glitch, not that long ago, in the sub-channels. Every non-protected channel was down for three days. All the civilian ones, all the low priority, everything. Those…those _fiends_ hacked the network to intercept everything they could. To send this message out. They've been planning this all along."

It was conjecture, but the weight of it held a little too well. On the screen there was only noise.

"Are you positive this is the channel we're supposed to be watching?" Sulu asked.

"Yes." Uhura frowned, pressing her earpiece closer as though it would change the message. "I suspect they're waiting until they're sure they have a large enough audience."

As if on clue, the screen went dark. A figure was barely visible, completely unidentifiable through the lack of light. Somewhere behind the camera, a green light was blinking. Everyone held their breath, fearing the worst. A flat voice, provided by a translator, finally started to speak, over laid like a commentator on a documentary.

"People of the Federation, where does your faith lay? How safe do you believe yourselves to be? The Federation has failed you before. One of your precious protectors has fallen."

Spock twitched at the mention of his demolished home planet. What good did they think would come of lambasting the Federation for the loss of Vulcan? There was a moment of silence and the sound of footsteps faintly from somewhere near the recording equipment. The voice, however, did not diminish in volume.

"Now is a…_golden_…opportunity to side with those of us who truly hold the power." Somehow, even with the toneless voice, the emphasis they placed on golden was chilling. "See for yourself how ineffectual your great Federation, your great Starfleet, is."

This lights came on. Everyone wished they hadn't. Jim was suspended from the ceiling of the room he was in by chains. His stomach was a canvas of purple and green and black bruises. Red welts from hands falling on him lined his skin from the line of his boxers, where the camera cut off, up to his wrists above his head. His chest was smeared with dried blood. Carved over his heart was the Starfleet insignia, the raw flesh standing out vibrantly. All this, however, paled in comparison to his eyes.

There was a rustling of chains, and Jim's head was jerked back violently to lift his face where it could be seen. His mouth was open ever so slightly, lips cracked and coated with blood. But his eyes.

The irises of his eyes were nearly white, veins of blue reaching from his pupils like the red veins of his blood from the corners of his eyes. His pupils were pinpricks. Tears stained his cheeks, dried trails of water that spoke volumes of the haunted, hollow depth staring out at nothing.

No one was sure, in those moments, how long the image lasted. In every corner of the Federation, people sat staring at the feed, breathless, waiting. Time seemed to slow, each second drawing out as far as it could, light-years apart from each other. And yet time started up all too soon again as a dagger sank into Jim's side from nowhere, plunged just below his ribcage, into his liver. Jim didn't so much as twitch at the sudden damage, though blood oozed freely from his side.

"You have lost." The voice announced.

"…" Jim's mouth moved, but no sound came out.

The voice had apparently not taken notice. "Announce your allegiance now, and you will be spared. Those who do not, shall be killed systematically."

"Never."

There was a sharp sound on the video following Jim's single word. The blade was pulled from his side and he made no move to recognize anything beyond what was happening inside his head. The image cut out immediately. The bridge was silent, heartbeats heavy and chests tight.

"Ve vill find him." Chekov broke the silence, head bowed over his station, hands fisted and body shaking lightly.

"Yeah." Sulu agreed, placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"They have, to phrase it as a human would, been hoisted by their own petard." Sarek announced, eyes dark. Everyone snapped their eyes to him, where he was still at the science station. "It is far easier to find the source of their transmission, when we are no so far that it must pass through another source first."

There was a beat of silence before Scotty let out a whoop. "Aye! We've got em now! Yer a saint!"

"I could kiss you right now." Winona announced, never looking up from her work.

"I suspect that shall have to wait." Sarek replied blandly, earning an eyebrow quirk from Spock, who had returned to the console to continue their search.

"So what is the plan when we find out where they are?" Sulu asked, eyes darting across the room.

"We go in fast." McCoy said. "We have to."

"And get ourselves killed or captured." Winona scowled. "We need help."

"We need Jim."

"We should first consider where they are." Spock broke between them. "And consider our options at that juncture."

"We'll be one ship flying into a trap."

"The longer we sit here, the more likely Jim is to die."

"Jim can handle himself."

"Did that look like handling himself to you?" McCoy roared.

"I find I agree with Doctor McCoy." Spock very nearly scowled. "You are no doctor, and are not fit to judge Jim's medical state."

Winona stood like a whip, sneering openly at him. "If you got your hotshot heads out of your asses for one second you could look around and see this isn't the same thing you dealt with before. And even if it was, the chances of what you did working were so astronomically low the only reason anything worked is because Jim is somehow capable of completely reversing statistics. Do you honestly think you can do something this monumentally stupid without him?"

Spock found himself looming over her easily. "Do you care nothing for your son?"

Winona rocked back and rocketed her palm against his cheek, a firm green welt forming almost immediately on his cheek.

"Winona." Sarek said softly.

She stormed off the bridge. The entire room was silent. Sarek shook his head.

"It is fascinating how very similar you and Captain Kirk are."

Spock hung his head. How? How could he accuse her of such a thing? Sarek was right. Winona was emotionally compromised, but she chose to act through it, providing as logical help as she could. As he had once done himself.

All at once, the muted way she held herself, the control she reigned over her emotions, the way she did so with subconscious easy, all the familiarity made sense. It was the same muted, natural way of feeling as his mother. And yet, the emotions that slipped through were just as potent, just as familiar as Jim's.

"McCoy?" Spock glanced at him. "It would seem I am…not suitable for discourse in my current state. Would you-"

"Apologize to her for you?" McCoy huffed. "I'm a doctor, not a candy gram."

Even though he complained, he was already heading out the door. Spock turned back to the station where his father was still working through the show. He was half grateful and half highly annoyed by his father's immediate ease with the situation. Somehow, the tightness in his chest had eased though. He felt…not like smiling…but like it most certainly would be alright. This was the crew that, as Jim had stated before, could handle anything. If Jim believed in them, then there _was_ nothing they couldn't do.

… .. .

"Even now, he fights you." The Klingon announced proudly.

The Cardassian wiped the blade on his shirt, scowling. "Kill him. We've made our point."

As the Cardassian left the room, four other Klingons stepped out of the shadows, staring darkly at the door. Jim shivered from where he hung, blood flowing freely down his side, pale.

"That is not a warrior's death." The only female Klingon in the room hissed.

"These Cardassians have no honor." Another agreed.

"Crew…my crew…" Jim mumbled. "Can't…"

"You still speak, warrior?" The first asked, impressed.

"They can't…they…" Jim's head rolled to the side as he tired to move. "Hurt them…can't…"

The Klingons exchanged glances, watching as Kirk fought against the drugs in his system. Somewhere, locked deep in his mind, he still warred against his own thoughts, still called out for someone to find him, and take him from that place. And still curled tight around his most precious memories, refusing the let them be ripped from him and leave him alone in the darkness of the mind. He hid himself away, so even he couldn't find himself.

"I have grown weary of this slight on my honor." The first Klingon rumbled. "I have no say in those we work with, but I will allow Cardassian scum on my ship no longer. This alliance need not be conducted in close quarters."

"And the Federation warrior?" The woman asked.

"He is ours to keep, now, and we shall do as we see best." He announced. "He will receive what a warrior should."

… … .. . .. … …

**I don't know if this chapter came out right. I didn't want it bogged down with gruesome body horrors and cheep gore. And maybe I left it too vague, what was happening to Jim, but I didn't want to over explain it and lose any chance at poignancy.**

**Did it have a good impact, or not?**


	37. Chapter 37

**I still don't own.**

**And yeah, heads up, I've got no clue on the Klingon in here, so if it's way wrong or something, try not to laugh too hard at me.**

… … .. . .. … …

"If you're right and this is where they are, then we may actually have a tactical advantage here." Winona gestured to the screen.

"A tactical advantage?" Sulu repeated, crossing his arms over his chest.

"The same ion clouds that made it hard to find will cover our entry." She paced down to the screen, gesturing to a vague area in the north most sector visible. "The asteroids could be a maneuverability issue."

Sulu snorted. "To hell they will. I can fly around them easy."

"Da, but we are knowing only wague areaz." Chekov pouted. "Iz possible they are being more hiding. If iz case then ve vill be encountering wessels et random. Ve may not find Keptin before encounter. If they are being avarez ve are approaching…"

"Kid. Stop being a pessimist." McCoy growled. "We'll get in there just fine."

"But-"

"At current, our sensors should be capable of detecting nearby vessels." Sarek told him, interrupting gently. "If we progress carefully, we should be capable of detecting them well before our presence is known and avoiding their presence."

Winona flashed him a grateful look as Chekov took a deep breath and nodded. Sulu fought down an impish grin. McCoy glanced back up to scowl, before returning to where he was using a dermal regenerator on Scotty's hand. The engineer had split it open fixing some of the damage done in the skirmish at Onais II. While the majority of small injuries were being treated in sickbay, Scotty took the opportunity to check in on the bridge.

"I've alerted the nearest ships." Uhura announced. "They're coming in cold. There's no way they're reach us any time soon, not on the verge of war. We're basically on our own."

"Very well. We will succeed with what we have available to us. As soon as we have formulated a plan of attack, we move. The likelihood that Jim is still alive drops exponentially the longer we wait." Spock stood from the captain's chair, folding his hands at his back.

"How do we identify the ship Kirk's on when we get there?" Sulu spun in his chair. "I don't want to speed up on the wrong ship and blow the whole thing out of the water."

"I say we set up a team." Giotto announced. "We beam aboard on the bridge and take down their communications. Disable the ship, search for our captain. If he isn't there, they have no way of contacting the other ships and we've got one less person to get past getting out of here."

"If we're going to do that, give me, Scotty, and Uhura two hours." Winona announced. "We can create a temporary jamming device."

"Lass, it'd only be for a momen'." Scotty shook his head. "Thirty seconds tops. An' then we'd have to be resetting it for the nex' go roun'."

"Thirty seconds is more than enough to disable their communications from the inside." Giotto grinned. "Mrs. Kirk is right. We can't risk them sending a message off before we get the chance to disable it. With luck, we'd only need it once. We could use their own ship to find Kirk."

"Very well, select the men to go with you." Spock told him. "Nyota?"

"On it." She told him, handing her station over and gesturing for them to follow her into the briefing room.

Sarek took the opportunity to approach Spock, setting an uncharacteristically tender hand on his shoulder. "Is this the wisest decision?"

"Do not ask questions where you do not intend to provide counsel." Spock, in a show of defiance, slid his shoulder out from under his palm. "If there is another way, a better way, that you are aware of then speak, but do not ask me to scrutinize alone any further what I have, since the moment of his abduction, been analyzing."

"I meant no offense, Spock." Sarek returned his hands to the small of his back. "I have no doubt you have devoted the utmost attention to this matter. I simply ask you to hold back your emotions a moment and _share_ what you have discovered in such analysis. If you repeat a theory to yourself for too long, even the most established proof will sound like nonsense."

Spock felt a touch of warmness at the sentiment his mother would repeat at him, ad nauseum, until it lacked all form, when he refused to desist in his studies. He had seen it applied to his father on more than one occasion.

"Very well…"

… .. .

"This is it." Sulu whispered, before catching himself and shaking his head.

The tension was tight, and several people had caught themselves whispering in the last few minutes, like they were going to be caught if they spoke too loud. Sulu's soft declaration was just the most recent of these occurrences.

Spock hit the comm., voice much louder on the silent bridge. "Mr. Scott, are you prepared?"

"Aye. Ready w'en t'ey ur." He answered back around a mouthful of spanner.

"Lieutenant Giotto, are you prepared?"

"Ready to go." He confirmed from the transport room, checking that his phaser was set to stun.

The men gathered around him were fiddling with their own phasers, crouched in various positions on the pad and waiting for the go ahead. Spock glanced at his father, who nodded once, not looking back from where he was working the science station. Chekov gave him a nod when he tossed a look his way, confirming his lock on the ship. Sulu, feeling the eyes on the back of his neck, lowered the impulse to a soft thrum, flexing his fingers around the controls. Spock could feel Uhura's eyes on him, not having to look to see the nod affirming that she was ready.

"On my mark." Spock announced to the entire ship, counting down in his head. "Mark."

At his signal, Giotto's team beamed. In the same movement, Scotty disabled their communications. A second later, a second team beamed after them. There was very little they could do now, aboard the Enterprise.

On the Klingon vessel, all hell was breaking loose. Giotto and his team laid a heavy cover of shots as Winona brazenly made her way across the bridge. She ducked and weaved and dove for the communications station, steadily counting down from twenty-eight.

"Twenty." She whispered as she popped the panel open, narrowly missing a shot from a Klingon gun.

Giotto's men provided cover as she fished a small device from her pocket and yanked out a handful of wires. "Eighteen."

Giotto pressed his back to her's, hissing for her to hurry as more were pouring in from other parts of the ship. His men had taken up something of a defensive half circle around her as the Klingons around them wizened up and used the bulkhead as protection. Unlike those who had been on the bridge when they beamed aboard, these were capable of defending themselves.

Winona didn't so much as wince as sparks seared her fingers, hastily shoving wires into the little metal box she brought with her. "Ten." With a final twist of her nail, she tightened a screw in place and hollered in triumph. "Ha! Twenty seconds."

"Great, peachy keen." Giotto snapped. "Get on that console woman! Stop gloating!"

"Yeah yeah." She dumped herself in the seat, pushing the stunned Klingon out of it first. "I'm establishing communications now."

The headpiece burst to life in her ear and she let out a silent cheer, eyeing Giotto's haggard visage for a second. There was a steady tapping on the airwaves, a single word: Jim.

"Very funny girl." Winona smiled in spite of herself.

"Winona did it." Uhura announced. "She's got control of their communications and she's linking the encryption codes to us now."

"Yes!" Sulu pumped his fist in the air for a split second before returning it to the controls, face once again set in stone.

Sarek spared an almost proud eyebrow raise for his son. Spock's attention was anywhere but him, however, fingers clenched tight around the armrests of the captain's chair. Even as the action was going down, Scotty was preparing for the worst, setting up another blast. Bones had made his way up to the transport room, with several nurses and doctors waiting outside.

"Kommander!" Chekov announced. "I hawe lock on second wessel. Iz not far from first, being in second cluzter of asteroidz, fiwe minutez at minimum impulze. Ve are capable of the firing veapons et your kommand."

"Father?"

"There is little doubt, this is the other vessel that escaped from Onais II before we beamed aboard the enterprise." Sarek confirmed. "As you suspect, Captain Kirk should be on one of these two ships."

"Remain locked on, Ensign." Spock told Chekov. "Be prepared to damage their thrusters should they attempt to run."

"Da." Chekov fiddled with something momentarily and fell back into silence.

"Spock, the Klingons have fallen back aboard the ship. Winona says they're going to remove the device and disable communications shortly. They'll be going blind again." Uhura updated, eyes focused on her consol.

"Tell them to commence as they see fit."

"Of course." She did as asked, closing her eyes as silence filled the airwaves once again.

… .. .

"Shit!" Winona dove for the ground, cradling the device to her chest.

On the positive side, the communications station was definitely down for the count. Unfortunately, it was suffering from the same computer malfunctions commonly found on the Enterprise and was spraying sparks everywhere. Giotto hissed as a few of the Klingons took the opportunity to try and take the room. They didn't succeed. Winona tucked the device into her belt and drew her phaser.

"Let's move."

"Never heard a better plan." Giotto admitted, gesturing for his men to flank the door.

They slid out into the hall, stepping carefully over the incapacitated Klingons. Winona yanked the code panel for the door, causing it to lock down and shut instantly, locking the stunned crew members in. Giotto nodded approvingly, even as he crept along, shooting into side halls as a precaution before he ducked his head around. In that manner, they made their way through the ship, eerily empty.

"Where the hell are we headed girl?" Giotto asked as Winona started up a service shaft.

"Don't you girl me, I'm twice your age."

"Where the hell are we headed Ma'am?" He amended.

"Sickbay."

It was fortunate that Starfleet students were required to familiarize themselves with the layout of enemy ships. And those unfortunate couple on the mission who hadn't were getting something of a crash course.

"Stupid question…" Freeman asked softly from the rear of their formation. "But aren't there usually Klingons on a Klingon ship?"

"Maybe this is an improved model." Winona joked softly, though her eyes were hard set. "Whatever they're doing, they obviously don't think we're enough of a threat to-"

She was cut off by a shot whizzing past her nose. Giotto gave Freeman a dirty look as they ducked into a side hall, about a third of them facing the rear to defend against anyone that could be behind them.

… .. .

"Spock, we've got a problem." Uhura announced. "The other ship is attempting to make contact with the one we've currently disabled. It won't be long until they figure out something has happened and come to investigate."

Spock nodded gravely. "You have permission to continue as planed."

She turned back to her work, listening to the message for a moment. Carefully, she adjusted the settings and keyed in the necessary code to send a transmission over the Klingon airwaves. With a deep breath, Uhura prepared herself mentally.

Her voice was deep and husky when she spoke. "nuq ta' SoH neH?"

The entire bridge held their breath as she waited for a response. While most of them could not speak Klingon, they understood the implications of attempting to deceive the other crew. There was a long moment of silence as she received no response. Finally, there was a crackle of sound over the airwaves and a chuckle.

"leghtaH Daq." A heavy voice responded. "Cardassian neH Daq Sov."

Uhura inhaled sharply, half at the thought that the plan was working, and half at the Cardassian. He was aboard the other ship, wanting information. Did that mean…

"Sov nuq?"

Spock listened carefully to her half of the conversation, waiting for any sign that something was amiss.

"chay' ghaH ghaH" The voice sounded a little exasperated. "HoD Kirk?"

Her heart stopped and her hand flew to her mouth. Everyone leaned forward in their seats, eyes intense as they waited for her response. For some idea of what she had just heard. One last thing. One last thing, and the other ship should be satisfied. One last thing, and she could speak to the crew. She forced her hands down to the console and took a couple quick, shallow breaths. For Jim.

Her voice was something of a tense rumble, furious. "ta'pu'. Qaw'ta'."

"QaQ. vetlh ghaHta' Hoch." He cut out and she all but threw her headpiece down.

"We've got the right ship!" She announced, springing to her feet. "They wanted to know what they'd done with Kirk."

There was a heavy moment of thankfulness before Chekov spoke up. "Vhat are ve to be doingz vith this ship then?"

"A Cardassian is aboard that ship. I'm willing to bet good credits _he_ is the one who tortured Kirk." Uhura hissed, clenching and unclenching her hand in anger. "Klingons don't torture people."

Everyone held tense a moment, letting that sink in. Chekov sneered at his console and reached sideways, into Sulu's area to power up phasers.

"Ensign." Spock said sharply even as Sulu grabbed his wrist to stop him. "While I understand your desire to seek retribution for what the Captain has suffered, it would be foolish to attack now. Target their thrusters. If they make any movement, Lieutenant Sulu has orders to fire. We will not let them get away, but we can not risk detection before we have the Captain onboard."

Chekov nodded, placing his hands in his lap and staring down at them. "Understood."

"Chekov." Sulu whispered, setting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We'll get him back. _We'll get him back_."

Uhura placed a hand on Spock's shoulder, earning a quick look as she leaned down to whisper something. "Spock, I'm concerned. Why would the Cardassian beam off the ship before Kirk…before he was done away with if that was what they wanted?"

He leaned to the side, whispering so as not to alarm the crew. "It is feasible that he is in no serviceable condition. The Cardassian may have business on the other ship, and transported to reduce transmissions, leaving the treatment of the Captain at the Klingon's discretion."

"Of course." She didn't sound reassured by that statement, for obvious reasons.

Uhura returned to her seat sluggishly, frowning. Everything was going according to plan. That had to be against some kind of rule. Something was going to go very wrong. It had to. And then…no. She wouldn't let herself think like that. The rest of the crew was holding out hope, she wouldn't be the pessimist to jinx this. That was McCoy's job.

… .. .

Giotto hissed, pressing his free hand to his thigh to stem the flow of blood. Freeman was holding a bloody shirt to his head, cursing freely as he inspected the wound on his flank. The rag tag group with them was worn down and injured. They were sequestered in a small room, the door blocked with strategic openings for shooting out of. It was the best option they had until the flow of Klingons died down enough to continue forward.

Or, it appeared that way. "Is anyone injured too badly to move?"

Giotto snapped his head to Winona, who was standing in the middle of the room, staring up. "Freeman has a concussion, but the rest of us only have minor wounds."

"I can move just fine with a concussion." Freeman slurred. "Little bastard didn't get me that hard."

"What were you doing with your back exposed anyway?" One red shirt, Carlisle, snorted.

"Shut it."

"Boys." Winona chided. "We're going up."

"Up?" Giotto swore. "You and your damned boy. The vents aren't for navigation."

"Got a better idea muffin?"

Giotto gritted his teeth. "No ma'am." He muttered something about scenario sixty-seven.

"Too bad." She shrugged. "I'll take point. Put Freeman in the middle so he won't fall behind. And keep quiet. We don't want to bang around up there and attract all sorts of attention."

She hauled a chair over and undid the metal grating. Silently, she set it aside and climbed up with a murmured command to keep up. She could hear the soft sound of people clambering up after her. The vents weren't particularly large, and indeed, Giotto was going to have problems moving easily in them. But they could get them part way through the ship. That was what she needed.

As soon as they had Jim, they could beam back aboard the Enterprise. A quick disabling shot so they couldn't give pursuit, and they could be back to Federation space in no time. All according to plan. That was good. It was a very good thing.

So why was her heart rate steadily increasing?

After a few minutes to get her bearings, Winona took the initiative and started leading them towards the Sickbay. Every now and again she could hear someone shout something in Klingon nearly directly below her. The first time, she nearly cracked her head on the roof in alarm. She had since been prepared for it.

Every so often she peeked through a grate below to see where she was. The ship was nowhere near the size of the Enterprise, but it was a god damn labyrinth. Every ounce of energy was being spent on keeping moving and not banging against the sides and floor too loudly.

That was why, if anyone asked, it would be completely forgiven that she missed the change in the vent ahead of her. Not that she would forgive herself. She put the lightest bit of pressure on it as she moved over it, just like every other vent. Unlike every other vent, this one had been loosened. A fact she became aware of as she tumbled through it.

The man behind her, having seen her disappear down unexpectedly, stopped short, to no avail as, microseconds later, the vent gave out under the team, specifically having been ripped open under them. They mostly fell to the floor, some clinging to the vent and scrambling to stay up, others(Giotto) working his fall to a perfect roll to his feet, weapon at the ready.

It made very little difference, as they were surrounded by Klingons, looking amused by their catch.

"Stand down Federation warriors." A Klingon woman stepped forward.

Winona twitched, growling. "Surrender is a dishonor."

The Klingon's mouth stretched open over her teeth in a semblance of a grin. "So it is little warrior woman. There is nothing to be surrendering though. You are the only ones doing battle aboard this ship."

"The hell we are." Giotto snorted. "Or do you just shoot people to say hello?"

"Yes." She shrugged. "But you gave us no chance to identify you."

"Identify us!" Freeman laughed. "So you could kill our Captain before we had a chance to get aboard?"

The Klingon frowned, shaking her head. "I am first officer of this vessel. We will speak now. It is time for negotiations of your Captain."

"So he is aboard this ship?" Winona asked warily.

"You were not aware of this?"

"We figured if he wasn't we'd just take you guys out and move on to the next ship." Giotto flashed a sneering grin, knowing the bravado did wonders for dealing with the Klingons. "It didn't matter to us how many of you we took out."

"Impressive. And you still chose not to kill." She nodded and her men helped those still struggling to their feet. "You will be coming this way, to my captain. He will speak with you."

"How is Captain Kirk?" Winona asked, snatching her arm back from the Klingon who had made to assist her.

The Klingons around them hung their heads a moment. "I do not know the standard term. Forgive. He…lives, but he does not fight. Not us."

"Then what does he fight?" Giotto scowled, trying to understand her wording.

"Himself, perhaps." She shook her head. "I can not say. We must negotiate now."

Winona frowned, and turned to Giotto, not bothering to lower her voice as she knew it was insulting to Klingons. "I don't trust this. Something is wrong here. Keep your eyes open and your hands on your weapon. One wrong move, and we take them."

Giotto nodded his agreement. The Klingons around them made no acknowledgment of her statement, though most were probably not familiar with standard. The first officer did nothing to acknowledge her declarations, not even alerting her men to what she had said, simply continued to lead them on. Winona had hoped the announcement would spurn some kind of further explanation. She wasn't too worried that it didn't.

… .. .

"I'm worried that there hasn't been any kind of acknowledgment. I know they're going silent until they need beamed back aboard, but shouldn't they have found something by now?" Sulu glanced back at Spock, knowing he wasn't helping.

"As they have beamed aboard an enemy vessel, they are sure to encounter heavy opposition." Spock told him, even as he gripped the arm of the chair a little tighter. "The process will be time consuming. You must allow for this, Lieutenant."

"I know." Sulu sighed, leaning back in his chair a bit. "Why couldn't I have been on the mission?"

"Ve are needing you to being here for piloting skillz." Chekov took a turn at comforting the other man. "You vill see. Keptin vill be annoyed ve did not allouve for big entrance. He vill come aboard bridge vith svagger."

Sulu chuckled, smiling in spite of himself. "And of course he'll start ordering us around immediately, wondering why we wasted our time getting him when he was going to take over the Klingon vessel on his own."

Spock and Sarek watched with fascination as the crew began throwing out details of how he would perform such a 'daring and miraculous' feat. It became ridiculous in short order, with tales of how Jim would take over the entire armada, no-win scenarios be damned, and manage to trick the Klingons and Cardassians into fighting each other.

"And of course, being a war hero and all, he'd obviously strut around earth getting every girls attention just to tell them there was someone he already had eyes on so he could tell everyone he broke a million hearts." Uhura threw in, earning a moment of stunned silence and a cheer.

"But of course, he's the whole reason there's a war." Bones announced, having come up from the transport room. "After all, the Cardassians and Klingons both want him for his pretty face, right? Helen of Troy has nothing on him."

"May I inquire as to why you are here, Doctor?" Spock asked when the laughs died down.

"Something M'Benga said a while ago made me think of something." McCoy told him, nodding to Uhura. "With Nyota's help, I'd like to try and get an alert out to the ambassador's vessel and get the nearest medical ship with a Vulcan healer as close as safely possible."

"Why a Vulcan healer?" Uhura asked.

"He said Vulcans are capable of putting people in those healing trances they use, if they're properly trained. I don't know how long he's been out, or the extent of the damage, but I'd feel a lot damn better if I knew there was someone that could improve his unconscious recovery time on hand if I do need them." McCoy locked eyes with Spock. "Not that he won't probably be up in a day, whining about being kept in Sickbay."

The joke fell a little flat, but everyone appreciated the sentiment anyway. They needed to believe that Jim was alive and well enough to be back to his old self. They couldn't erase the image they had seen from their heads, so they needed to superimpose it with something stronger.

"At your discretion, Doctor." Spock nodded. "When she feels it is safe to do so, Uhura will deliver the message to the nearest Starfleet vessel. They will relay it from there. Please return to the transport room. If you are in need of a break, have another doctor take over."

"I left Chapel in charge, but I'm getting back." McCoy nodded. "Send a message down our way as soon as you hear anything."

"Leonard." He called, and everyone took pause, considering it unusual to hear Spock use the doctor's first name. "We have the right ship. The other vessel confirmed that Jim was aboard the one we have infiltrated. We will get him back."

McCoy smiled, shaking his head a little. "That's just like Jim, isn't it? Don't know how he does it."

"I suspect a mixture of luck and will power." Spock twitched through an amused smirk, just barely.

"He does seem to have an uncanny skill for negotiating encounters so they will end favorably." Sarek replied when the room remained quiet in shock.

"Careful." McCoy told them, heading to the turbo lift. "That sounded suspiciously like a complement. I'm starting to see why Jim thinks you're always saying nice things about us."

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him, but said nothing else as he left. The bridge fell back into silence, but it was entirely unlike before. There was still tension. They were still waiting for something to happen, but there was an ease they hadn't felt before. The same ease they had when Jim told them everything would work out in the Narada incident. The same secure feeling he instilled in them when he told them he believed they could do it.

He believed in them. No doubt believed they were capable of saving him. They wouldn't let him down, couldn't.

… .. .

"I don't care about your formalities!" Winona shrieked at the mildly amused Klingon. "I want to see Captain Kirk!"

"We must negotiate first."

"You should be negotiating with our interim Captain or with the Starfleet admiralty." Giotto pointed out, placing a hand on Winona's shoulder to calm her down. "It isn't technically within our authority to make any deals with you."

"You misunderstand. We want nothing." The Klingon paused a moment, and shook his head. "And we are no the ones who destroyed our communications, making it difficult to contact your ship. We will deal with you, and you may seek approval later."

"Why don't you get that we can't do that?" Winona hissed. "Let us see the Captain!"

"Winona!" Giotto snapped. "Calm the hell down. Where did all that Starfleet training go?"

She seethed at him, but folded her arms over her chest and glared at the Klingon. The Klingon who, if he had the capacity for it, would look almost apologetic. Giotto gave her one last firm look before turning to the Klingon with an exasperated look in place.

"Look. We don't _have_ the authority to make a deal with you. Our Captain can't approve a deal over his own release. As is, we can't negotiate because you didn't make a formal announcement of ransoming him. That's current Starfleet policy. It's possible we can work something out anyway, but you can't ask us anything from the Federation. Our word won't be backed on any promises we make."

"We understand." The Captain nodded. "We want nothing."

"How are we supposed to make a deal to get him back if you don't want anything?" Freeman slurred, slouched in a seat and picking at the dried blood in his hair.

"Ah. No. You misunderstand. We will give him freely, but we must ask something of you.

"That isn't giving freely." Winona muttered, falling silent just as quickly when Giotto gave her a warning glare.

The Klingon considered this a moment and nodded. "Very well, we need only your word, not the Federation's."

Giotto shook his head a little. "Alright. Let's talk then. What do you want from us?"

"We have discussed, and we wish for you to damage our ship."

"I'm sorry; I think my concussion is bleeding into my ears." Freeman scowled. "Could you repeat that? Because I could swear you said you wanted your ship damaged."

"The Cardassian has done a dishonorable thing and we have aided him in this, no more than I." The Klingon admitted, looking ashamed. "The only way to redeem my honor, my crew's honor, is to release the Starfleet warrior. We can not do so while we are allied with the Cardassians. This allegiance is beyond our decision, but we do not wish to be part of it."

"What do you mean?"

"The Cardassians killed their own." The Klingon growled. "They planted prisoners as lures and let them die to trick your Federation. They ordered the capture of your Captain to remain secret, when the honorable thing to do is to negotiate, or offer him the chance to win his freedom. They had us torture his body, while they attacked his mind. They are scum, not worthy of a warriors name and not worthy of allegiance with the Klingon race."

Throughout his tirade, the Enterprise crew had grown steadily tenser. They had long since been brought up to speed on the details of what were occurring, but to hear it from the other side so bluntly was enough to make blood boil.

"So you want us to take out your ship, so you can't fight." Winona stated. "Because you can't back down from a battle, for honor's sake, but the battle itself is dishonorable."

"Yes."

"And our Captain?" Giotto asked.

"We have done what we can for him." He scowled. "Your kind is better suited to understanding medicines. We are warriors, not healers. You are free to take him."

"Then what? If we attack you, the other ship will pursue us." Winona pointed out, earning a surprised, dark chuckle.

"You may do as you wish." The Klingon growled. "Our brethren aboard that ship would understand. If you do more than disable it, you may even kill the Cardassian who has resorted to such vile methods."

"He's aboard the other ship?" Freeman growled.

"We would have him among us no longer."

"It wouldn't be dishonorable, letting us attack your fellow warriors without warning them?" Giotto asked skeptically.

"What could we do to stop you?" The Klingon asked in amusement. "We have no communications. You are in no obligation not to attack them, for they have made no dealings with you. The rules of negotiations do not defend them."

"But we're attacking you anyway, even with negotiations."

"Really? I recall these negotiations have not happened, just as your Captain's capture did not occur."

"You're kind of sneaky for a Klingon…" Freeman frowned. "But only in an honorable way."

"Will you agree to these terms?" The Klingon asked. "I do not wish to fire upon your vessel and force you to attack us, but I will do so if I must."

"No." Winona grinned. "I think that'll work just fine for everyone. Just make sure you keep your men somewhere safe. We aren't responsible for anyone dieing because you didn't get them out of the engine room."

"Of course." The Klingon nodded. "You will tell your interim Captain?"

"As soon as we have Kirk." Giotto agreed.

"Very well. Come with me, your wounds will be treated, and then we will show you to him." The Klingon stood and started for the door.

"Why can't we just take him and beam back aboard?" Winona asked. "We can be treated on our own ship."

"You still bleed." The Klingon pointed out. "It is dishonorable to allow you to continue to bleed. And no blood may be shed where he is."

Giotto scowled at the Klingon led them out of the room. "What does that even mean?"

"I don't know." Winona started after him. "But what ever it is, it doesn't bode well for Jim."

No one replied, though the thought was there with all of them as they followed her, and by extension the Klingon Captain, out and to the Sickbay. Where the hell was Jim?

… … .. . .. … …

**Why yes, I think that does count as a cliff hanger, sorry. Don't worry, that bit gets resolved at the start of next chapter. So here is my awful explanation of what I think I managed to get the Klingon to say but probably am wrong about…**

**nuq ta' SoH neH-what do you want?**

**leghtaH Daq-looking in**

**Cardassian neH Daq Sov-Cardassian wants to know**

**Sov nuq-know what?**

**chay' ghaH ghaH-How he is.**

**HoD-captain**

**ta'pu'-done**

**Qaw'ta'-destroyed**

**QaQ-Good**

**vetlh ghaHta' Hoch-that was all**


	38. Chapter 38

**I don't own Star Trek.**

**It's times like this I wish I had the time to go through and individually thank each and every one of you who reads this and especially reviews. Just know I adore you all. And I've tried to get all of the typos, but sorry if I missed anything.**

… … .. . .. … …

Giotto was nervous. Hell, the entire team was nervous. The Klingons hadn't exactly given the best demonstration of first aid. They were bandaged, yes, but if they didn't get off the ship and to a dermal regenerator soon, there would be scarring. That didn't bode well for Jim's condition.

They were bandaged, though, and being led to some inner bowel of the ship. It was like a small maze, and he was already missing the spacious, wasteful design of the Enterprise. Winona was storming about, scarier than the Klingons showing them around and at least as half as scary as Jim when he got serious. He couldn't exactly feel her pain, missing Jim only as the Captain he had come to respect, and not family.

He'd be damned if she hogged all the worry and righteous anger though.

Freeman was hissing and spitting at anyone within arm's reach, demanding answers. He was completely unaccustomed to the level of willful disregard he was being shown. No one was inclined to tell him to stop, glad someone was voicing their protest.

"Respectfully, silence yourselves." The Klingon Captain told them at the end of a long hall. "Your warrior is through here. It is best you say nothing until you have removed him from this place."

"Tradition?" Freeman snarled sarcastically.

"Yes." The Klingon paused a moment, contemplating something. "We can not roar for him, because he still lives, so we wait in silence."

"Seems a bit odd for your kind." Giotto glanced at the group, waving a hand to tell them to stay in the hall.

"You do not know as much as you think."

"Enough talking." Winona growled tersely. "Let us in to see him."

The Klingon captain considered them a moment before nodding. The door opened with an ominous whoosh and they were lead in. Winona inhaled sharply, nostrils flaring at what she saw. Giotto tightened his hands in fists, bones creaking from the force he used to clench them. Words. They wanted to used words, wanted to call out to the man before them, but couldn't.

Jim was laying across a medical bed, white blanket draped loosely over him. The sound of his breathing was the only thing in the room, a cancerous, disgusting sound that evoked images of tar and smoke. He was pale, too pale, and sheened with sweat. Heavy gauze was wrapped around his hands, his chest, maybe more. His bandages were dotted with blood.

Winona traced her fingers over the back of his knuckles, eyes brimming with uncharacteristic tears. Her baby boy…

Gently, Giotto scooped the smaller man into his arms. He'd never actually realized how small Kirk seemed, fragile. Even staring down at him in that bar in Iowa, he had seemed to take up the entire room. The blanket was set aside, and Giotto's eyes fell to the uneasy rise and fall of the beaten man's chest. Jim hadn't stirred. Hadn't even made acknowledgment of the pain moving him was surely causing. Where ever Jim was in there, not even the pain could reach him.

No one said a word as Giotto stepped into the hall. No one knew what to say. Winona didn't turn back to that dreadful room as she pulled her communicator.

"Beam us up. Now!"

Winona had barely materialized before she was at the wall, pressing the comm. unit. "I need to speak to you immediately, Spock. Don't do anything until I reach the bridge."

She was out the door before he could respond. Giotto was almost reluctant to hand Jim over, feeling the inane need to keep him close and safe. Everyone gathered round as close as they could as McCoy and his medical personnel began their work. If, when he first touched Jim, Bones' hands shook, no one said a word, and no one would be able to look at the surgeon steady hands and tell.

Winona burst through the door, onto the bridge and earned every ounce of attention available. "Take out the engines of the ship we were just on, destroy the other one."

Spock blinked as everyone else burst out with incredulous questions. "What is your reason behind this?"

"We made a deal with the Klingons on the ship." She announced. "They want their ship disabled, so they don't have to cooperate with the Cardassians. They don't care what happens to the other ship."

"I see." Spock glanced at Chekov and Sulu. "And Jim?"

Winona glanced away. "With McCoy…I…don't think you'll want to see him like this."

"But…he iz aliwe?"

Winona paled, shutting her eyes and shivering. "By some definition of the word."

Uhura placed her hand on the older woman's shoulder, a brief comfort. Winona shook off the oppressive feeling of worry, locking eyes with the young man her son put so much trust in. Spock nodded and flicked a hand at Sulu.

"Destroy only their engines." Spock ordered. "But lock onto their weapons in the event they decide to return fire. We will uphold their bargain. The other ship, however, you may fire upon at your discretion."

"Yes sir." Sulu glanced at Chekov, who was already altering the targeting system.

Chekov nodded, and Sulu fired. The second ship, with the Cardassian on board, burst into a shower of sparks and flames before coming to rest, dead and damaged, as a cold, lifeless hull. A dark, self-satisfied grim twisted across Chekov's face.

"Oops. Iz being my fault that second ship vas shot first. I vill correct targeting." Chekov set about doing that.

Sulu smirked a little, cocking his head to the side. Chekov was really, _really_ good at picking out weak spots on ships. The other Klingon vessel went dead in the air with one shot. Sulu nodded once to Spock, as if he hadn't just watched them take the ships out. Spock nodded back.

"Take us out, Mr. Sulu."

… .. .

It wasn't that bad. And that was a small miracle in itself. He'd expected worse, expected the worst. And yet there Jim was, lying in front of him, wholly Jim. He had seen horrors, unimaginable horrors inflicted on people too young to know what horror was. Seen too many gruesome things in such a caviler manner and become desensitized to images that should have brought tears to his eyes. Images that should have haunted his dreams. That was horror. Any number of those things scarring the man in front of him would be the incarnation of horror. This wasn't horror. This was damage, but this wasn't horror. Not by a long shot.

McCoy set about cutting off the bandaging around the young Captain. They were in the surgery room, so as not to be bothered by the returning crew members having minor wounds tended to. Jim's hands had been cut, the nails pulled one by one from the beds, the sensitive skin filleted, stripped from the muscle. There were traces of metal under his skin of his arm, a wire like implement having broken when it was being used to separate the skin from muscle.

Jim's toes were dislocated, broken, the bones in his feet shattered. His ankles had been hobbled, repairable, but the damage was done. His knees, too, in a vindictive moment. The wound in his side, expertly stitched by hand. He'd have to remove the sutures to heal the damage. The last of the bandages, around his chest, brought a faint tremor to the doctor's hand.

He remembered the video. Remembered what he had seen.

And there, as the last bandages fell away, the Starfleet insignia. Carved in his very flesh. There was where they had gone wrong. Starfleet was in his heart, and he was in its. They would go to the end of the universe for him.

Gently, he lifted Jim's torso, cleverly disguising a heartfelt hug as a necessary action as Chapel took the last of the bandages from under him. She said nothing as he settled Jim back down, already running a tricorder over him. There was internal damage, and they needed to move now if they wanted any hope of helping him. They could heal his body. It was all McCoy could do, but he'd swear no one could do it better.

"Just 'cause trouble comes visiting don't mean you have to offer it a place to sit Jim." McCoy drawled as he set to work. "We're going to have a long talk about your self-destructive streak when we're done."

… .. .

It wasn't all that surprising, seeing Spock sitting there patiently when McCoy finally came out of surgery. His shift had been over for quite a while and Winona had left for bed a few hours before. Why he was avoiding the woman, he had no idea, but it was obvious he was. Still, he suspected Spock would be waiting up until he had to go to shift if that was what it took to hear news about Jim. McCoy remembered a time when love was that easy.

"Doctor?"

McCoy sat down next to him, sighing. "I hope Uhura got a hold of that ship. Whatever drug they gave him, it's wreaked havoc on his system. He's completely non-responsive, some kind of coma. He'll live, but I don't know if he'll wake up."

Spock glanced away, swallowing thickly. "Thank you for your honesty."

"It's the least I can do." McCoy admitted. "He…he had some pretty bad wounds. He's going to have scars."

Spock nodded curtly. "That is acceptable. I can not express my gratitude for your saving him, doctor."

"You just did." McCoy smiled warmly, patting his shoulder with a yawn. "Get some rest. Last thing we want is that insomniac getting a better night's sleep than us."

Spock nodded once, climbing to his feet. "Very well. I will return shortly before my shift so that I may report his condition to the entirety of the crew."

McCoy nodded wearily. "I'm sure I'll be here first thing in the morning to let you know."

Spock paused, hesitating before he set his hand on McCoy's shoulder. "Thank you, Leonard."

The worn-down doctor gave him an amused, suspicious look. "That isn't going to let you stay in here any longer you walking computer."

Something lit in those dark, dull brown eyes. Spock nodded, looking renewed as he left the sickbay. McCoy considered staying, sleeping in his office or on a biobed near by. Jim wasn't going anywhere. And Jim had hand selected the best medical personnel, with his aid, for the Enterprise. And McCoy could rest easy, knowing Jim was in their hands.

… .. .

"No captain should allow himself to be captured in such a situation." Fitzpatrick snarled.

"You mean like I did." Pike snorted. "I don't see what _Captain_ Kirk's position has anything to do with this discussion."

"If we find it necessary to move him to a more suitable position for his experience," Barnett winced a bit when Pike rounded his glare on him, "then it becomes very important as to what ships we can send where."

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" Yaramoto scowled. "Kirk is plenty qualified to be a Captain. The most qualified, when we gave him the position."

"Have you even read the reports? Seven requests for transfers stating inability to trust the command crew. Three citing hostile work environment. _Ten_ with entire essays on the lack of leadership." Fitzpatrick leaned back in his seat, content that he'd made his point. "Clearly Kirk isn't as ready for the position as some of us may have initially thought."

"Uh hu." Archer steepled his hands, smiling sardonically. "You've been forgetting all the daily logs, mentioning how often Kirk is down in the departments himself, lending a hand? Or how he has personally sat down with nearly the entire crew to discuss if they are still comfortable working under him? Or if they are uncomfortable with him and Commander Spock working together? And each interview conducted was recorded and reported?"

"When was this?" Fitzpatrick leapt to his feet, white with rage.

"You didn't know?" Archer asked in mock surprise. "Oh dear. I must have forgotten to forward them on. There were a few people, twelve of those requesting transfers, who admitted they would work for either Kirk or Spock, but not both of them. Six of those requesting transfers told him they were having panic attacks on shift, related to the deaths of so many of their friends and colleagues. The other two said they would most likely work for him again, once he had a few more years of experience. And while everyone expressed concerns about the stability of the command crew, they oft cited _regulations_ making it difficult for them to properly communicate."

"I don't believe that for a minute." Fitzpatrick spat and hissed. "I know for a fact that they've both assaulted each other and have had the entire crew at odds, picking sides."

"Oh?" Pike asked. "From what I heard from most of the crew, they hardly even noticed. They were so caught up in their own stress that Kirk and Spock just seemed like two more coworkers who were asked to ship out a couple days after the death of most of their friends with no time for therapy or mourning."

"Have you ever lost someone?" Yaramoto asked innocently. "Bottling that up is anything but healthy. Before the unquestionably unprofessional, but relatively _human_, tiff between Kirk and Spock, there were seventy-five interpersonal fights reported. During their fight, that number dropped to two. The crew saw their command team struggling and came together in the hopes of putting _less_ stress on them."

"I…but…that…that's not." Fitzpatrick flapped his mouth a moment, speechless. "No. The crew was polarized. They can't operate under those conditions. There's no way. The constant lack of direction, the high-strung air, there is no way. The crew was close to breaking down into utter chaos."

"Now where would you have heard something like that?" Pike sneered. "Because I certainly never got any report to that effect."

Fitzpatrick's eyes widened, horrified. "I…I didn't, that is…"

"It wouldn't happen to be information you were getting from a certain science personnel, would it?" Barnett finally joined in. "You see, she admitted to everything when we asked her. Just as soon as she was off the Enterprise."

"W-what?"

"Oh, you didn't approve _that_ transfer either. She is a bright girl, and will be very, _very_ useful on the Vulcan colony." Pike's voice was a single note of triumph. "But before she went, she shared with us every instruction you gave her and every bit of coaching you provided."

"It was clever, having someone play off of the tension on the ship. Did you honestly think no one would notice that she was witness to several of the fights onboard the ship, not just involving the command team?" Archer leaned forward. "She set quite a tone for everyone else to follow, asking just the right questions and saying just the right things to make them short with each other, never mind the fact that they were two young men, already strung high with tension, and being forced to spend every minute of the day together. Add in a touch of insubordination that Kirk isn't experienced with handling, and wouldn't be able to focus on under that kind of pressure any way…"

"It's no wonder the crew was under such strain." Pike finished, watching gleefully as Fitzpatrick grasped desperately at something to say and failed completely.

"You're lucky, in retrospect, that they're such a good team." Barnett told him. "If your plan succeeded, the Federation might have half a mind to accuse you of treason. As is, you should leave this room. Any admiral under investigation can not participate here."

Pike's smile fell as soon as he was out of the room. "God help us, but Jim's still out there somewhere. That doesn't solve even half our troubles…"

"Well, if he comes back too leery of ships…" Archer smiled demonically. "I believe and Admiral's position has just opened up."

"He wouldn't take it." Yaramoto reminded. "Now. Working off the assumption that Kirk and Spock will be in charge of the Enterprise, where should we send them?"

Komack and several others who had remained silent chose that moment to join in and return to the highly pertinent discussion of the war.

… .. .

"Do you ever sleep?" Rand set down a cup of Vulcan tea, balancing a pile of PADDs on her hip.

Spock eyed her wearily, having only gotten a few hours rest. "I am currently investigating the possibility that you are in fact an antonymous robotic unit or sentient gynoid. This requires numerous hours of research on my part."

She laughed half-heartedly. "Well, sir, might I suggest a few more hours sleep? I assure you I'll still possibly be a machine when you wake back up, if I ever was."

Spock shook his head once. "The reports?"

"Right here." She handed them over. "They could wait, you know. You've already alerted command that we have Captain Kirk back. The papers can wait a little while."

"One can not command a starship waiting." Spock told her, nose already buried in one of the PADDs.

She frowned, glancing down at her shoes. "With all due respect, sir. _One_ can't command a starship."

Spock glanced up in surprise, in time to see her leaving the canteen. His eyes fell heavily to the PADDs and the cup of Vulcan tea. The logic was sound. How long had they both been trying to run the ship on their own? Undermining each other? He needed Jim to run the ship. And…he hoped, Jim needed him. He withheld faint tremors from his hands as he quickly gathered his PADDs and downed the Vulcan tea. It was unusual to see him in such a hurry, but he needed to find Uhura.

She was in one of the rec rooms, singing to some of the crew. She looked over when he came in, smiling but never missing a note. It was a cheery, comedic tune about soldiers, half in jest, by an old and obscure earth singer. Spock waited patiently until the finished the song, bowing out to cheers and sad calls for an encore. He nodded politely to her and stepped into the hall, which she obliged him in doing.

"You look a bit harried. Are you alright?" She asked softly, cupping his cheek.

He nodded, closing his eyes for only a split second. "I am well, thank you Nyota. Do you perhaps have time to converse? I find I am in need of your council."

"Of course." She did her best to light up, though the days had been taking their toll on all of them. "I'm always here for you. Besides, I could use something of normality right now."

"Indeed." He smirked. "I do not suspect that will be particularly forthcoming in any manner. I often wonder if there was ever such a thing as normal."

She laughed, headed for the turbo lift. "Well, certainly not since Kirk became a large component of our lives. Maybe we should ask McCoy how he's survived for so long."

Spock nodded as he followed her in. "I believe the common phrase is 'If you can not beat them, join them'?"

Uhura covered her mouth, giggling. "Are you implying something about our Doctor?"

"Am I?" Spock winged an eyebrow up as the turbo lift came to a stop. "Most intriguing."

She pursed her lips together in pert amusement, shaking her head. He made himself at home immediately in her room, taking a seat on the edge of her bed. She flopped down gracelessly next to him, snorting cutely in amusement. He smiled faintly, allowing himself, to lean back against her ever so slightly.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "So? What's on your mind?"

"I am in love with Jim."

"What!" She rocketed up, eyes wide.

Spock lifted himself from her bed in the same motion as she sprang up, giving her room to clear her arms as she flailed them. He raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to stop sputtering in shock. She took a deep breath, hand over her racing heart, and shrieked. Spock reared back, resisting the urge to slap his hands over his ears.

"Does this displease you?"

"Disp-No!" She hadn't dropped in volume, leaping to her feet and snatching up his hands. "That's wonderful!"

Spock glanced down at their hands, feeling her unrestrained excitement and satisfaction. "It is not."

"No?" She pulled her hands back, voice much softer.

Spock glanced sideways. "Jim has informed me that my affections are not desired."

Nyota sank heavily onto her bed, eyes wide and confused. "What? B-but…wait…when did you tell him?"

"Two days before we changed course for Onais II." Spock admitted. "I…had kissed him the night before. Our actions were markedly uncomfortable in regards to each other after this event."

Her jaw fell open. "You told him before the ball?"

"Affirmative."

Her first thought was that their efforts were entirely pointless. And then: "AND HE ACTED LIKE THAT?"

"I do not understand what in our Captain's actions was worthy of such…loud attention."

"He-he-he…oh my god." Uhura buried her head in her hands. "I can't even believe that."

She glanced up, furrowing her brow. Spock was standing perfectly straight, eyes looking weathered. Uhura stood quickly, placing her hands on his shoulders.

"Oh Spock. I…I'm sorry. I don't even know what to say." She patted him awkwardly, unsure if she should have her hands on his face or shoulders, so leaving them to his neck. "I…I'm sure it will all work out in the end, Spock."

He gripped her hands tightly, the vestiges of a pained smile in his eyes. "Thank you, Nyota."

"So." She smiled softly. "You actually fell in love with Kirk?"

He winged up an eyebrow. "I suspect you are attempting to tease me."

She grinned. "You have to admit…_James Kirk_. Of all people. The irony is delicious."

He noticeably sighed. "Indeed. I believe this is what my mother would refer to as Karma."

Uhura rolled her eyes, waving him down. "Only if you think Kirk is actually a _good_ catch…Do you like liking him? I mean…sometimes it isn't too fun loving someone…"

Spock smirked returning to the edge of her bed. "It is an exquisite form of torture. I find that I both despise my involuntary attraction to him and would have it no other way. I would desire to have control of my own emotions, yet I can see picking no one other than him to devote myself to…"

Uhura wrapped her arms around his torso from behind, hiding her tears in his shirt. "I'm so sorry."

If he was aware of her tears, he made no mention of them. "I suspect the decision itself is suspect to my current state. I would have in no way considered Jim as a partner had I not first come to view him romantically. It is perhaps an interesting phenomenon that I did not find him to be attractive until I became aware of my attraction to him, at which time it became apparent that I have considered him thus for some time."

She chuckled, shaking her head and leaning back. "You changed the outcome by observing it."

Spock quirked an amused eyebrow, craning his neck to look at her. "Fascinating."

"So why are you telling me this now?" She tapped him with her foot, smirking. "Got tired of not having anyone to talk to it about?"

"I have conversed with Doctor McCoy on the matter." Spock turned green, glancing away. "It was not my intent to offend you, but I wished to know his opinion as Jim's friend on how I should handle the matter of having kissed him."

"Offend me?" She shook her head. "I'm the one who told you to go to him when it came to Kirk. I wish you would have told me sooner than this, but I understand that it is a private matter."

"Thank you, Nyota."

"So…you told Leonard about this _before_ the dignitary meeting?"

"Affirmative."

"And…he told you to tell Kirk you like him?"

"He instructed me to discus our…physical interaction. Jim had deduced the cause of my actions from the night before on his own and instructed me that we would continue to be friends and colleagues." Spock was beginning to look uncomfortable, not to the point of moving, twitching, or otherwise showing it, but enough Uhura could tell.

She found herself scowling, not only that McCoy had apparently felt he didn't need to alert them to this before joining their plan. "What _exactly_ did Jim tell you?"

"He instructed me that such fraternizations were inappropriate. He also made mention that we could work around these feelings and that they would fade with time and we could commence as though nothing had occurred."

Uhura frowned, trying to translate his paraphrasing into Kirk-speak. She wasn't liking what she was hearing in her head. Because it was only confirming that they were both hopeless idiots. After all, she wasn't the only one to notice Jim's behavior and it was highly unlikely, him being the surprisingly smart man he was, that he wouldn't _consider_ Spock's feelings before immediately dismissing them, even if he wasn't aware of any interest in him. If Jim had sat down to really analyze his own actions in regard to Spock, he'd have seen that he liked him.

"So you never actually got the words out of your mouth?"

"It was unnecessary." Spock pointed out, a mildly bemused tone hidden somewhere in those words. "Further more, voicing such a thing when the other party has already made known their disinterest would be disrespectful and damaging to the friendship we have worked exceedingly hard for."

She nodded slowly frowning. "I understand."

Oh she understood alright. Uhura understood perfectly just how stupid her two boys were. She was somewhere between wanting to slam their heads into each other and wanting to lavish them in sympathetic hugs. Oh, she and McCoy would have words.

"If it is any consolation, I believed you would enjoy discussing Jim and excoriating me playfully for my attachment to him." Spock told her after a moment, earning a huge smile.

"Oh yes. This will be wonderful. Are you looking for a distraction until your shift?"

"I am."

"Well, let's start with what you find so irresistible about Kirk." She practically purred. "Is it the blue eyes? The bad boy vibe? Ooh. Or maybe that smirk on his face begging for someone to come along and take him down a peg?"

Spock shook his head lightly at her. "I suspect it is the intelligence he possesses, entirely different from my own, but no less potent."

She snickered. "But Sandy do you think he'll give up the Thunderbirds and Letter just for you?"

Spock furrowed his brow. "I do not understand what you are referring to."

"Old, old, _old_ movie." Uhura sighed. "More importantly, now is when we start gossiping about past relationships and trade anecdotes. I guarantee it will make you feel better about the whole Kirk situation."

He arched an eyebrow, cocking his head to the side. "Fascinating. I am willing to test this hypothesis."

… .. .

Rand caught his eyes and smiled as he stepped onto the bridge with Uhura, looking much more refreshed for having taken the morning for himself. Sulu and Chekov glanced at Uhura, noting the almost giddy look on her face. Spock ran through the preliminary information, determining that nothing important had changed over the night, and proceeded with the paperwork he had neglected.

"Ah. Commander." Uhura's voice was momentarily jarring just a few minutes to lunch.

"Yes, Uhura?" He gave her his full attention, knowing full well this interruption was bound to be news from the Admirals.

"There is a correspondence from the Admirals for you. Just written. I'm transferring it to your PADD." She told him curtly, throat a little dry.

Spock nodded, diverting his attention to the PADD. "Thank you."

For the first time in his comparatively short career, he skipped through the section of formalities. The orders were relatively straight forward. They were to rendezvous with a Vulcan ship and collect a healer from them, to accompany the Enterprise back to Earth and assist in the medical care of Captain Kirk. Once there, Kirk's condition would be evaluated and further decisions for the Enterprise would be made upon their conclusions. All intelligence gathered would be handed over to the Admirals in person upon arrival.

Spock took a deep breath and closed out the correspondence, setting the PADD down. The crew was watching closely, waiting for him to speak. He stood from the chair, clasping his hands behind his back.

"We are to rendezvous with a Vulcan medical ship in six hours. I have sent the coordinates to your consol, Mister Chekov." Spock met the eyes of the crew, patient and waiting for any further questions. "Please correct for that course before retiring to lunch."

"Yes Kommander."

… .. .

"Oh!" Winona laughed raucously, grinning pleasantly at Sarek. "Now _that_ sounds familiar. What was his response?"

"It was most fortunate that the head of my house, T'Pau was present." Sarek took a sip of his tea, pert smile in his eyes. "She told him she would handle the punishment herself. It was…most enlightening."

"May I join you?" Spock asked politely, lunch in hand.

"Of course hun." Winona smiled at him. "I'm going to be heading back down to Sickbay soon though."

"That is most unfortunate." Spock told her, taking a seat by his father. "It was my intent to update you on the status of our mission as it pertains to Jim's health."

Sarek winged an eyebrow up at him, looking almost startled by this revelation. Winona cocked her head to the side, wondering at his motivation. Narrowing her eyes, she nodded for him to continue. Rather than respond, he took a moment to begin eating, setting aside his meal after only a few bites.

"We will be acquiring a Vulcan healer to assist in assessing his mental health, inducing a trance, and possibly helping to awaken him." Spock told her dispassionately.

Her eyes welled up, but aside from the slight glossy sheen, it was hard to tell. "I see. So he _is_ in need of a Vulcan healer."

"I suspect Doctor McCoy is what is commonly referred to as a 'mother hen' in reference to his nurturing and often over protective nature." He replied offhandedly. "Regardless of his actual need, Doctor McCoy will insist only upon the best of care for Jim due in no small part to his enormous sense of duty to his fellow man, as well as his immeasurable attachment to your son."

Sarek raised his eyebrows over his teacup, watching the exchange. "Most curious that you were quite insistent in your instructions to the Admiralty that this was not optional. Perhaps your own fondness for the man has grown…immeasurably."

Spock's ears blazed a soft green, but he continued to eat as though his father had said nothing. Winona smirked pleasantly at Sarek, eyes dancing with the shared little victory. As she finished her coffee, she stood with a sigh.

"Well, I'm off to pester the head doctor." She grinned wickedly. "It was wonderful hearing about your youth, Sarek. I hope we can talk more some other time. And thank you, Spock."

"You are most welcome." He told her honestly, brown eyes warm as they focused on her.

She gently placed her hand on the nape of his neck, affection and amusement running through her touch in just the slightest. "Jim may be his spit image, but you remind me so much of George in temperament. He was always so withdrawn and trying to be the cool, stoic man."

Before Spock could reply, she removed her hand and left. He stared after her a moment before turning to his father in curiosity. Sarek watched knowingly, and Spock suspected he would be tightlipped as always and did not press the matter.

… .. .

_Jim settled down into the seat, crossing his legs and strumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. "Well, gentlemen, if they want to create an alliance, we shall create an _Empire._"_

… … .. . .. … …

**I don't own Grease.**

**Nor do I own the amazingly funny music by one Tom Lehrer, creator of the elements song, poisoning pigeons in the park, new math, and of course _It makes a fellow proud to be a soldier_. I've been a long time fan of Lehrer and now I share that with you all.**

**That isn't even close to the end of the trust situation between command and crew. Pardon this chapter if it feels a bit inane, it has a purpose.**


	39. Chapter 39

**I don't own Star Trek. And If I did, I certainly wouldn't tell _you_ about it…but no, seriously. I don't.**

**I'm beginning to think all those nice reviews you guys are giving me are sleep deprived. Not that I'm complaining.**

**Enjoy.**

… … .. . .. … …

"Commander." Uhura turned in her seat to address Spock. "I'm receiving reports of small skirmishes. Command has instructed we keep shields up while we make our rendezvous."

"Thank you Lieutenant. Please inform the medical transport."

"Yes sir." She nodded, turning back to do just that.

"Bridge to the transport room." Spock connected down to them. "The healer should be beaming aboard shortly. Be prepared to receive them. They are to report directly to Doctor McCoy upon their arrival."

"Yes sir." The tinny voice responded.

"Commander." Sulu glanced up from his controls. "After the rendezvous, it will take approximately a day to get to Earth. Will we be turning the helm over to our replacements, or do you want us to stay on the entire night?"

"There is no need to stay beyond your shift." Spock eyed him a moment before nodding. "Contingent upon Doctor McCoy's advisement, you may visit the Captain after your shift."

Sulu ducked his head, rubbing the back of his neck. With the exception of a few select nurses and doctors, no one had been allowed to actually see Jim. Not even his mother. McCoy was quick to inform everyone it was just to reduce risk of pathogens and sickness, rather than the worried rumor that Jim's condition was instable, or visually alarming. He insisted Kirk was just as pretty as ever and everyone needed to shut up and let him heal.

Spock had been contentious, for a while, that even he was not allowed to see Jim. McCoy's logic was sound however. He would permit Spock to see Jim _after_ the healers had been in, to reduce any temptation he might have to try his hand at helping him. He had begrudgingly admitted he wished to pull Jim back as soon as possible, but was not skilled enough and had to wait for a trained healer. He couldn't be around Jim, risking the overwhelming temptation to help him in some way.

… .. .

"_I don't even know who you are anymore, Kirk." A brunette scowled, crossing her arms over her chest. "The Captain I knew would have never considered hurting his own men."_

"_For the greater good, I had no choice." Kirk informed her, looking up from his PADD. "My men are my tools and I must use them. If that means sacrificing a few decent security officers to save civilians, I have no other choice."_

"_You are nothing more than a dog of the empire!"_

"_Leave, Marlena." Jim snapped. "Leave and don't come back tonight. I've had enough of your consternation. So leave back to your labs and never think to speak to me about right and wrong on my ship again."_

… .. .

McCoy looked up from his work as two Vulcans entered his Sickbay. He stood immediately, shock blatant on his face even as they offered up welcoming salutes.

"What in blue blazes are you two doing here?"

"A healer was requested." Stonn replied easily, nonchalantly. "I am here to assist you to the best of my abilities."

"Alright." McCoy nodded. "I…I'm going to get Spock down here. Just…hold on a minute."

He nodded in agreement as McCoy made his way to the comm. unit and called the bridge. He made a cryptic demand for Spock to get down to Sickbay, and returned his attention to the pair of Vulcans standing innocently to his right. He'd honestly though he'd seen the last of Stonn and T'Pring, but there they were. He couldn't help but wonder if they had specifically requested to be on the Enterprise. Well, Stonn, at least, T'Pring just followed where he went apparently.

McCoy didn't have to wait long for Spock. The second he entered, his eyebrows rocketed up. Stonn nodded in greeting. T'Pring saluted politely, watching his minor shock fade to subdued respect and a touch of thankfulness.

"Just wanted to make sure you were alright with him poking around in Jim's head." McCoy thumbed a hand his direction.

"I see." Spock cocked his head to the side. "That is acceptable. Stonn is adept at his art."

"I would request you be present as I attempt to heal Kirk's mind." Stonn told him. "As you are familiar with how it was before any damage occurred, it will be most helpful to me."

Spock glanced at McCoy, who shrugged, throwing up his hands in confusion. "Good God man. Don't look at me. I have no idea how this works. If he needs you in there, if _Jim_ needs you in there, then just do it. Don't make it harder than it has to be. Jim's his patient at the moment."

T'Pring placed a hand on Spock's shoulder. "I will assist in this. We will bring your Captain back if we are able."

Spock nodded and McCoy shook his head in muted wonder. Carefully, under the watchful eyes of his nurses, he led them to Jim's room. He was laid out on a biobed, wrapped in blankets. He looked pale, the red gone from his face, limp and nearly lifeless. The only movement was the steady rise and fall of his chest, much shallower and calmer than it logically should be, like he was barely breathing in. Like a sleep near death had taken hold of him.

McCoy walked over immediately, checking his pulse by hand even as he read the readouts. Stonn and T'Pring approached casually, surveying him. Spock's breath was caught in his throat. Jim was so very fragile. So very…isolated. It seemed daunting, for a second, like no matter how far he reached, Jim would be just beyond his grasp. Just beyond bringing back.

"Spock." T'Pring called. "We will need you to be here."

"Affirmative." He stepped closer, eyes locked on Jim.

McCoy had peeled back Jim's eyelid to shine a light in his eye. The pupil was still dilated, the blue nothing more than a faint trace of what it had once been. Like spindly rivers cutting through a plane of white sand, his eyes were blank. Stonn pressed his hand to Jim's temple, informing McCoy that he would perform a shallow meld, first, to ascertain the condition of Jim's mind.

His eyes widened and he pulled back almost immediately. "H…he is…most chaotic. The sheer storm of emotions is unlike anything I have experienced before…"

"It would appear that has not changed." Spock said softly, tracing Jim's hand trough the blanket. "Will this prove too difficult?"

Stonn straightened himself. "I am quite capable of handling this. Your concern is understandable, but unnecessary."

"We all got pieces of crazy in us, some just a little bigger than others." McCoy smiled sardonically at Jim. "Try not to let that little brush with him make you too confident in your abilities."

Stonn stared down at Jim, as if he had happened upon something quite remarkable. "Indeed. I will heed your advice."

"Come." T'Pring offered her hand to Spock. "It will help Stonn to know if something is wrong. Perhaps even help shield against your Kirk's own chaotic mind."

Spock nodded, setting his hand in her own, eyes never leaving Jim's face. Stonn placed his hands on either side of Jim's face, closing his eyes to concentrate. Spock marveled how he could feel the faint strum of Jim's emotions through T'Pring's hand.

Stonn was plunged into a sea of chaos, each wave of emotion crashing over his head, swirling around him to drag him under. It was near impossible to keep his head above the wash, so he dove deeper into Jim's mind, under the chaotic tide and into the strong, flowing undercurrents. Here, insurmountable walls seemed to meet him at every turn, blocking him from reaching further, from Jim. While the chaos of Jim's mind was slowly crashing in on itself, destroying even the calm currents that lay below, it appeared he would be incapable of reaching Jim, of destroying the walls that had worsened the whirlpools of his sickness.

Jim was naturally chaotic, that he had seen. Primal, and yet more. This, though, this landscape, was a universe crashing in on itself, breaking apart and trying to form again before it was complete. A star imploding on it self, forming a quasar with the force of its own destruction and beginning anew, changed and yet the same. Stonn was a healer, though. He had countless years of practice, enticing minds to heal themselves. Jim's mind was willing, but there was no hand to guide it. No one to control the destruction it wrought on itself.

Jim was human, hiding from the emotions, the thoughts, the chaos of his mind. But he was still human, had not trained his mind as Vulcans, or even Cardassians. His shields were adequate from his own mind, but not from another person's trained intrusion. Stonn slipped below Jim's shield easily and started touching memories, thoughts and ideas, searching for which one Jim had anchored himself around. Which one he clung to. What thought was strong enough he could hold himself in so easily, when the natural response was to pull free?

What he found shook even him.

T'Pring wrenched her hand from Spock's, hands flying uncharacteristically to her mouth. Spock furrowed his brow in worry. McCoy took an aborted step towards them, eyes wide.

"What's happening?" McCoy asked, alarmed.

"H-He has found Jim." She shut her eyes, calming himself.

"That is not a good reaction!" McCoy yelped in alarm. "That is not a good reaction for finding Jim. What happened? Why did you react like that?"

She took a deep breath, regaining her emotionless countenance. "I apologize. Jim has anchored himself to the deepest parts of his mind, not easily accessible to even himself. To do so, he has anchored himself with a particularly…personal emotion."

Spock's eyes widened. "I see. It would be…improprietious for me to be privy to such an emotion, as I have served my purpose of assisting Stonn."

As if he heard his name, Stonn pulled back from Jim, eyes wide and shocked. McCoy was at Jim's side immediately, shining a light in his eyes. Blue flooded back into his irises, like a sun going supernova, the energy and vitality exploding into life. His readings skyrocketed, the biobed alerting him to the sudden and drastic improvement. And yet, Jim did not rouse.

"It will take time." Stonn murmured breathlessly in answer to the unasked question. "I have freed him from the cage he placed himself in, but he needs longer to heal. I do not advise waking him from the trance forcibly. Not yet."

"But he's going to be alright?" McCoy asked, looking up.

T'Pring was brushing her hands gently over Stonn's, touching carefully at his face, never lingering, but soothing the pale and drawn Vulcan. Stonn looked ashen, like he had taken on a touch of the destruction Jim had been holding within himself.

His voice was tight when he spoke. "Only he can decide that."

Spock watched them a moment, chest feeling tight with something not unlike envy. "Thank you."

Stonn turned to him, face unusually grim. "I could not have found my way to him were it not for you. I…I believe you should speak extensively with him once he has awoken. Though his body will heal, his mind needs a soothing hand. He…is a most intriguing presence. I believe you have the ability to create a place for yourselves together."

Spock furrowed his brow, not understanding. McCoy simply quirked an eyebrow, in place of Spock, and shook his head, looking down at Jim. Only with them.

"Stonn." McCoy stopped him before he could leave. "You look like you need rest, so I won't keep you long, but I have two important things to say to you. First, if you tell anyone what you found in Jim's head, and I mean anyone, no one will be able to prove your death is anything more than a tragic accident. I won't insult either of us by asking if you understand that."

Stonn quirked an eyebrow, but nodded, looking almost amused by the display of overprotective instinct. Spock had become quite used to these displays and said nothing. T'Pring covered her microscopic smile with a thoughtful hand.

"And second…thank you." McCoy looked up, earnest thanks on his face. "I don't know what I would have done if you couldn't bring him back."

"You are most welcome." Stonn nodded wearily. "Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to assist him. He is… a friend."

McCoy grinned and waved him off. Spock stared at the door after they left for a moment before turning back to Jim. His breathing was strong and full, his cheeks warm with natural color. The boneless way he slept was no more, strength inherent in his very form. McCoy patted Jim's chest gently, shaking his head and heading towards the door.

"Come on Commander. You can spend plenty of time with him once he wakes up." McCoy jerked his head towards the door. "He'll probably talk your ear off, bitching that we came and rescued him."

Spock jerked around to look at him, eyebrows shot up in surprise. Slowly, McCoy watched the fatigue and worry melt away, taking the fragile, anxious man away with them and leaving just Spock. Revitalized, stronger, exhausted, but Spock just as he should be. He schooled his features appropriately and locked his hands behind his back.

"Indeed, Doctor. It will be most fascinating."

… .. .

"For Christ's sake!" McCoy snapped, shooing crew members out. "I said three at a time. Damn it all you vultures. Leave him alone."

Crewmembers laughed, feeling relieved now that they were being permitted to see Jim. He looked much better, much more natural. Winona hadn't left his bedside for a moment. Upon first seeing him, she nearly collapsed in relief, hiding her tears by letting her hair fall over her face. Uhura chuckled, watching as McCoy pushed the last of the rule breakers out of Sickbay.

"Are you here to see him too?" McCoy wiped at his brow, sighing.

"Mm. Actually, I'm here to talk to you." She sauntered towards his office and he frowned, immediately worried.

He didn't ask until he had the door closed. "Just…what do you need?"

"Mind telling me why you didn't tell me Spock knew he liked Jim? Or why you didn't tell me Jim knew he liked Spock?"

McCoy blanched, eyes widening. "Spock told you. Oh god. So you saw exactly what they did too?"

"We already know they communicate like a blind man and a deaf man with a brick wall between them." She rolled her eyes. "This is classically bad though, yes. More importantly, you let me make a fool of myself trying to get them to notice each other when they had already had an incident."

"Honestly." McCoy scratched the back of his neck. "I was just hoping it would do _something_. Moot point, as I'm pretty sure this incident has done more than we could ever hope. They'll talk, and I think they'll finally get everything out. Or I might just lock them in that room."

She smiled, patting his shoulder. "Five ensigns just snuck into Jim's room."

"God damn it!" McCoy raced out of his office, snarling to the amusement of his personnel.

… .. .

"Spock…"

Winona's head snapped up, though it was close to noon and she had only just gotten to sleep. Jim stirred, grip tightening on her hand. She felt a small smile tug at her lips, warm tears rolling down her cheeks. Jim groaned as he slowly tried to wake.

"Spock…"

She chuckled. "Now hold it right there young man. Just why would he be holding your hand? Is there something you're not telling me Jimmy?"

Jim's eyes flickered open slightly, and shut just as rapidly. "M-mom?"

"Shh baby. I'll get McCoy." She did just that, screaming out the door for him to get his ass in there. "There we go. Don't say anything just yet. Your throat must be parched. We'll get you a drink in no time."

Jim nodded without any energy to it and fell back into sleep. McCoy had seen the last part and nodded thankfully to Winona. Jim's readings were much more normal. It was a natural sleep now, no healing trance and no coma holding him under.

"We did it." McCoy placed his hand on Winona's shoulder. "We saved him."

Winona stood, hugging him tightly. "I judged you all wrong. All of you. And I'm sorry for that. You may be young, and inexperienced, but you make it work for you. The universe is on your side and no matter how astronomical the odds may seem, I trust you'll always find a way."

McCoy smiled, soothing her hair down gently. "Thank you, Ma'am. But I think it's all Jim."

She wiped her face clear of tears, a strong, confident look on her face as she nodded to him. She glanced back at Jim and sighed dramatically, her best put-upon smile in place as if asking 'what can you do'. McCoy left her to Jim as he headed to the comm. unit, goofy grin in place.

"Sickbay to the Bridge." McCoy couldn't keep the slightly chipper tone out of his voice.

"Yes Doctor?" Spock's voice responded.

"Jim just woke for a moment." McCoy's voice rang out triumphant. "The worst is over."

The bridge broke out in a deafening wave of cheers. Chekov immediately entered his code and started a ship wide announcement. Spock was too shocked to make comment on the unsanctioned act. He stumbled to his feet, right past his father who had been observing the bridge, and out the door. Sulu glanced after him in alarm.

"C-Commander!" Sulu glanced down at his consol. "He's supposed to be here for landing…"

"I believe it would be best to allow him this moment." Sarek told him.

People were celebrating throughout the halls, intrinsically pleased with the news. Spock stumbled blindly past it, retreating to the empty transport room. The room he had lost his mother to. The room that had brought Jim back. Jim was back. It had seemed so daunting, when he first watched him taken, but Jim was _back_. Really back.

He couldn't let him go again. He needed to speak to Jim, eventually, needed to say everything he felt, though Jim may despise him for it. He needed to _say_ it. Just acknowledging it couldn't be enough. No. He had known, had been aware since the second Jim fell that he had taken that shot for him. He could not live with that guilt, without thanking him, scolding him, without him…

… .. .

Jim's eyes fluttered. He was in a soft medical bed. That wasn't Sickbay, for sure. That was intrinsic of a cushy hospital, because soft and comfortable beds took up too much room in the Medbay of a starship. It smelled like antiseptic, peaches and bourbon. Glancing to his side, he saw the tousled, messy hair of his long time friend. His eyes softened immediately at his resting friend, the sight of him at his bedside so automatically natural.

"Bones…" He croaked out.

The slight sound was enough, launching the doctor awake. His brown eyes widened and he jumped for the bedside table, getting a glass of water with a swirl straw for Jim. Jim grinned, face hurting from the action.

McCoy spoke while Jim drank. "We're back on Earth, at the academy."

"Thought I recognized the beds." Jim mumbled around his straw.

McCoy rolled his eyes, thankful for the telling banter. "I should be screaming at you for your heroics, but I think you've suffered enough for them. The admirals haven't decided what to do with you yet."

Jim smiled weakly, handing the glass back over before he dropped it. "Oh. Sorry."

"Don't you have anything else to say?" McCoy frowned, eyes narrowed.

Jim shrugged, staring off at the computers to his side, watching his vitals. "I…I think I should resign from my position as Captain."

"What?" McCoy shrieked, leaping to his feet. "Are you still brain damaged?"

Jim winced, but didn't meet his eyes. "I've hurt a lot of people, Bones. I've divided my crew with my childish behavior, forcing the psychological problems of my personal life on them. I've been reckless, careless. I haven't been a Captain. How can anyone trust me when I'm locked in this destructive loop? I need help, Bones, not people whose lives I can ruin. I was locked inside my own head, McCoy, I was forced to see what I really am. I can't…I can't subject people to that."

"I don't know what you saw, Jim, but I know you're not going to hurt anyone." McCoy told him sincerely.

"You don't understand!" Jim cried. "I…I was a monster. I let the people I care about suffer because it was easier that way. It was like looking in a dark mirror. I can't do that. I can't be that person. I can't put people through the things I've been through and I can't let my own warped way of handling things go on any longer."

McCoy grimaced at him. "Isn't it enough, that you never have and you know yourself enough to stop it?"

"Is it?" Jim laughed bitterly. "I had thought so, but what do you call what I've done? My own crew can't trust me. Not when every other week they have to decide between me and Spock."

"Choose between you? What are you talking about?" McCoy shook his head. "Your crew has never had to choose between you and Spock."

"Bones!" Jim sounded exasperated and desperate. "One week Spock does the Vulcan equivalent of mind rape, and the next the whole crew is whispering about how I tried to force myself on him."

"Tried to…dear lord our communication really _is_ that bad." McCoy sighed, resting his face in his hands. "That is not what the rumors were. Everyone, _everyone_, though you and Spock had been at odds with each other because you wanted a relationship with _Uhura_. When they found out that wasn't the case, they thought maybe you had argued because you had wanted a relationship with him and he thought you either were propositioning him when you didn't meant to, or had offended him by doing it."

"What?"

McCoy chuckled a little. "People were getting quite around you because they weren't sure if they should sympathize and feel bad for you or if they were looking at a resurgence of Cadet Kirk. No one even thought about whether you or Spock were right or not. The bridge got the worst of it because they had seen what happened, but the only rumors really going around the ship were that you and Spock fight like an old married couple."

Jim didn't know if he should be laughing hysterically or not, so he just stared at Bones wide eyed. Bones huffed in half amusement.

"Hell, Chapel was the worst of it. She was telling everyone you two were going to run off to Vulcan and elope if she didn't save Spock from your wily charms. That he'd be obligated to since you'd ruin him. Thank god Uhura stopped those rumors and eventually talked her down."

Jim scrunched up his nose in disgusted confusion. "That's why everyone was looking at me like something on the bottom of their shoe?"

"Specifically because they know Starfleet regulations on couples and thought you were going to willingly break up their command team for a piece of tail. They actually were worried you were trying to make Spock choose between you and his career." McCoy was relieved to finally be able to tell Jim, as he'd sworn an oath of not talking about the rumors.

He'd thought he was helping, and that Jim knew what the whispers had been and that was why he was so distraught. Apparently he had been a victim of poor communication as well. Jim was staring down at his hands, shell-shocked.

"W-well, everything _else_ I said still applies."

"Did you not just hear me?" McCoy snapped. "They were pissed about the thought of you two not working together. Where does that turn into 'good leadership means abandoning the crew that wants and needs you' huh?"

"Just because they didn't know what happened doesn't make my actions any better!" Jim barked, blue eyes grey with anger. "My actions were still wrong and I can't trust my self to always do the right thing!"

McCoy leaned back, glancing at the door. "I think you need to think on this now that you're awake and aware of yourself. Don't ruin your new found maturity by starting off with a baseless and selfish decision."

With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving Jim to his thoughts. He didn't even know where to begin thinking about that. He was a selfish person. He knew that. He'd always want to beam down with the team and investigate a new planet. He'd always put himself in danger first when everyone else was supposed to be protecting him. He'd always make whatever decision he thought was best for the ship, and he had thought that he could rely on Spock to be the voice of reason, a balance in his life pulling him back from the edge. He had hoped it would be enough to have someone else to rely on.

He _could_, but he wasn't sure if it was right to. If he had been able to talk to Spock, when they apparently decided to save him, he'd have been the one kicking and screaming, telling him to think more. Was it right, to rely on someone else for half of your plan? To not be able to fill in all the holes on your own and to plan accordingly? Was that fair to the crew, who couldn't even be sure if they could trust the command crew to be on speaking terms in the middle of a war?

But…was it right to just abandon them? And to hope their next captain knew what he was doing? Jim lowered himself back into a laying position and buried his face in his pillow in frustration. Why wasn't there ever a clear decision?

… .. .

"Will you be going to see him?"

Spock looked up at his father from across the lab, where he had secluded himself ever since their arrival on Earth. He had been evaluating their situation and trying to fathom the new information Uhura had provided him about the ship's views on their command team. He had little time for it after his discussion with her previously. Sarek took a step closer, glancing at his son's work in half-interest.

"I do not believe it is wise I see him yet."

"I see." Sarek replied in an absent tone, hyperaware of his son's answers. "Have you spoken to the admirals about what occurred?"

"They have been briefed on the occurrences." Spock nodded.

"Very well." Sarek turned for the door. "I trust you are aware that, no matter your decision, I will support you."

Spock glanced up to watch the door close on his father's back. What decision his father was speaking of, he had no idea, but the sentiment was clear enough. He desperately wanted to sigh, ending his experiment and readying himself to leave. He needed meditation. He needed sleep. Most of all…He needed to speak with Jim.

… .. .

"Not the Vulcan I was expecting." Jim admitted, eyeing Sarek as he entered the room.

Sarek took the seat by his bed. "Forgive me. I believe my son is in conflict of how to best approach you. I believe our last discussion did not go as well as I had planned."

Jim grimaced, swirling the water in his cup with his straw. "I'm surprised they let you in here. Even my own crew hasn't been allowed to visit. Just doctors and my mother."

"There are many privileges associated with being an ambassador." Sarek's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Privileges I am not above abusing for my own benefit."

Jim's eyes widened. "You are, like, the worst Vulcan ever."

The corners of Sarek's eyes scrunched in something of a laugh. "I was something of a…wild child, in my youth. My worst act of rebellion was leaving for earth and meeting Spock's mother. You would be considered a well behaved child in comparison to my own youth."

Jim laughed. "Who'd have guessed?" He glanced away awkwardly after that, a little shamefaced. "I'm sorry to have caused all this trouble for everyone. Civilians should have never been on my ship going into dangerous territory. I should have words with Spock about that."

"Fascinating." Jim fought down a chuckle at the similarity between father and son. Sarek had that knowing look on his face.

"Stonn and T'Pring visited me. They told me he had been in my head." Jim tried to converse naturally, but he was still speaking to _Sarek_. "I guess I'm really lucky."

"Indeed." Sarek paused, almost like he was looking for certain words. "You and my son are…opposites. You are volatile on your own, but react together, like acids and bases, to create something that is more."

Jim furrowed his brow. "No we aren't."

"No?"

"Of course not. Opposites cancel each other out." Jim sounded aghast, almost outraged. "We're like reciprocals. You know? Like…we _are_ reflections of each other, but we add up to one."

Sarek looked stunned, too shocked to speak. Jim flushed considerably, bowing his head.

"Er…that probably sounded really stupid."

"On the contrary, I believe you reflect my sentiments exactly." Spock replied from the doorway, smug smirk fleeting across his face.

Jim stared at him in shock and Sarek took the opportunity to excuse himself. Spock eased into the room, closing the door behind him.

"How did you get in?"

"Doctor McCoy instructed the personnel that I was to be allowed in under all circumstances." Spock took the vacated seat, looking Jim over critically. "You appear well."

"I've got this sweet scar." Jim joked, tugging down the collar of his hospital gown to expose the Starfleet insignia carved into his chest. "I kind of like it. It's…daring. Dramatic."

"Flamboyant?" Spock offered, earning a small glare.

"I was thinking debonair." Jim deadpanned.

"I suppose I should thank you for placing yourself in the line of fire for me…but I find I should be instructing you to take better care of yourself." Spock watched him lower his gaze like a small child. "Do _not_ ever do that again. You can not just put yourself in danger. I do not want you getting hurt for me."

Jim blinked up at him, surprised by his own words being thrown back at him once again. "Sorry."

Spock quirked an eyebrow. "Do not apologize to me."

Jim tried to smile, but didn't quite succeed. "Spock…do you think I'm fit to Captain the Enterprise?"

Spock's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the question. "I would not work for you if I did not. I do not suspect any of the crew would."

Jim's smile grew a little more confident. "You'd never leave me here on my own, would you? I mean, even if we had the worst fight ever and just looking at me made you want to strangle me, you'd still help me, right?"

Spock narrowed his eyes a bit at the mention of strangling him, though his heart tightened at Jim's plea. "I would not leave."

Jim sighed in relief, a tension releasing his shoulders and the burden off his chest. "Thank you."

Spock hesitated a moment. He had much more to say, much more to speak about. But Jim was still tired, still healing from his ordeal. There would be time, undoubtedly. This was not the time or place to discuss everything that was between them. Eventually, he would want full disclosure, but for now…for now Jim would need his rest without those worries plaguing him.

"Rest now, Jim." Spock told him, rising to his feet. "We will discus more tomorrow, after you have rested."

Jim nodded, laying himself back down. "Thank you."

"You are welcome, Jim." Spock headed out the door, glancing one last time over his shoulder at the sleeping young captain. "And thank you."

… … .. . .. … …

**Bam. Awake Jim.**

**And now you know about the rumors. It's nice being able to finally bring in these elements that Jim or Spock couldn't see and therefore didn't get spoken about very much. I didn't want to just give it away immediately. That would have made the whole thing even more frustrating, I think.**

**It certainly did for me…**


	40. Chapter 40

**Don't own Star Trek. Go figure.**

… … .. . .. … …

"Easy now." McCoy ordered, easing an arm around Jim's waist.

Jim swatted ineffectually at him with his free hand, leaning on the brace they gave him for walking heavily. He was dressed in his simple gold tunic, having refused the more formal shirt. McCoy was throwing a tantrum, wishing he would have taken the wheelchair to get to the auditorium. As it was, Jim was reluctant to use the brace.

"I believe he wished to walk on his own, Doctor." Spock informed him, keeping his own hands locked behind his back to prevent himself from taking Jim's other side to assist him.

"I can speak for myself Spock." Jim gritted out, still weak from the few hours of rest he had gotten.

The second the sun was up, Pike was in his hospital room, telling him of the immediate need for him to show a strong front for the Federation and help nip the war in the bud. Having him back and fully functional would demoralize the enemy tremendously, as well as providing a boost for their own citizens. Jim had agreed, only to remember as he was dressing a few minutes later that he had only recently regained consciousness and his legs from hip to toe were incredibly sore and hard to stand on.

"If you wanted to be able to stand at your little press conference you shouldn't have tried walking across campus." McCoy announced angrily.

"What do you want him to do?" Sulu snorted. "Jump into Spock's arms and be carried there?"

Spock quirked and eyebrow at the suggestion and Jim made a rather angry gesture over his shoulder. McCoy shook his head. Chapel finally gave in and took up Jim's other side, making the walk easier on him. He grunted in annoyance, sending a look at Spock.

"Make them stop."

"Do you desire to be carried?" Spock deadpanned.

"No!"

"Then I do not see how I may be of assistance."

"Uhura! Think of a dirty word to call him!" He demanded of his communications officer. "He's picking on me."

Uhura glanced sideways at Spock with a chestier grin. "How about _T'hy'la_?"

Spock actually tripped, eyes widening and face going green. Jim furrowed his brow, glancing between them in confusion. Sulu and Chekov both stared at Spock, wondering just what she said that could get a physical reaction like _that_. McCoy was pointedly ignoring them and Chapel, not knowing the word but finding humor in Spock's reaction had buried her face in Jim's shoulder to stifle her laughs.

Spock coughed, tugging down his shirt to straighten it. "I do not suspect that is at all the type of word he was referring to. It is not, by the common usage to which Jim alluded, a 'dirty' word."

"Ah do'naugh suppose ye'll be telling us jus' wha' tha' word means lassie?" Scotty chuckled.

"'Fraid not." She sweetly at him, ignoring the annoyed look on Jim's face.

"Just what did she try to get me to call you?"

"Do not concern yourself with it."

"Ve are almost to auditorium." Chekov pointed out.

Jim shrugged his wonderful assistants off, deciding they had let him go knowing he would refuse to walk in there with their help. Jim took a deep breath and handed the braces over to McCoy when he was just outside the door. A look of worry passed across the doctor's face before he nodded, effectively hiding the braces behind his back as they entered.

Cameras started flashing immediately and Jim raised a hand to cover his face, glancing in amusement at Spock. He sauntered over to the podium easily, leaning casually on it like nothing were wrong. His crew came to stand at his back. He peeked back at them, and shared a nod with Spock. The reporters and cameramen quieted down, waiting with bated breath for him to start speaking.

"Well, it's certainly nice to see so many people here." Jim joked, smiling warmly. "I'm glad to be back."

"Captain Kirk!" One reporter shouted. "Is it true you were tortured?"

"Klingons' ideas of torture involve manicures." Jim grinned, earning a few chuckles. "I'm clearly fine, as you can see."

"Captain!" Another voice shouted. "Was the video they transmitted real?"

Jim sighed, resting his chin on one hand to hide the churning in his stomach of having seen the video of what they had done to him. "Yeah. It was. And they screwed that up too, didn't they? I mean, come on? Who forgot to gag me and my big mouth?"

The crowed laughed heartily and another voice called out. "What about the war?"

Jim straightened. He'd been thinking quite a bit about the war. It was the biggest thing to happen…since the loss of Vulcan. He actually felt a little dulled. It seemed a little far away. Like it would all work out pretty easily and surprisingly. Wasn't that how it always happened in the movies?

"It's an alliance doomed from the start." Jim shrugged, feigning easiness. "You'll see."

"Kirk! Kirk!" Another voice hollered over the crowd. "What is your opinion on Admiral Fitzpatrick's impending trial and possible dishonorable discharge?"

Jim reared back, glancing at Spock in surprise. None of his crew looked to have any idea what this man was talking about. "This is the first I've heard of it."

"Will you be returning to command?" A feminine voice demanded of him.

"I wasn't aware I ever left." Jim smirked charmingly.

"Will there be any changes in your crewmembers?"

Jim raised both eyebrows at the question, shaking his head. "My crew is the best of the best. Unless anyone specifically requests a transfer, I don't plan on making any changes."

"Rumor has it you and your first officer have different opinions on how the ship should be run. Violently different. Is this true?"

Jim scowled, glancing sideways as Spock came to stand at his side. "Just what are you insinuating?"

"Are you and your first officer capable of forming a cohesive command unit?"

"If I may, Captain?" Spock quirked an eyebrow even as Jim shrugged, waving him to the podium. "As with any good command unit, the Captain and I operate on a system of checks and balances. We decide together what is best for the ship when orders are not enough. Though the Captain and I have different approaches in deciding what is crucial for the ship, inevitably, we see eye to eye in the end."

Jim grinned, slapping his shoulder, though Spock could feel the faint tremor and deduce that he was close to falling. "You see? We've got this handled."

Spock stepped to the side, out from under his hand. Jim tripped forward, catching the podium in surprise. McCoy took a step forward, frowning. The entire room breathed in sharply.

"Careful, Captain." Spock smirked.

Jim grinned, kicking idly at him. "Honestly, it may be hard to tell, but he adores me."

Spock glanced sharply at him, the amusement in his eyes falling. The reporters were laughing heartily. The majority of the crew behind him winced a little at the comment. Jim smiled in a placating manner until their laughter died down. When the reporters were ready for questions again Jim waved them on.

"Do you believe the Starfleet regulation on relationships will have a negative impact on your command team?" One voice asked.

The room seemed to be spinning around Jim and he stared out in horrified silence. The asker repeated themselves, the joviality of the question lost, making it suddenly very intrusive and demanding.

"Ju-" Jim gulped, clearing his throat. "Just what are you referring to?"

"The rumors that your head of Medical is dating his chief nurse…What did you think I was referring to?"

Jim shook his head, glancing back at the surprised looks of Chapel and McCoy. "N-nothing. I had no idea. Ah…No. It's no problem. They aren't in an undisclosed relationship, or any relationship, for that matter. My crew is close, exceptionally close. We all rely on each other. We are all friends, of at least some sort. I can't imagine any of my crew needing to apply for permission to date someone on board though. Or having trouble with it if they do, for that matter."

There were murmurs throughout the reporters as they decided what to ask next. Jim gave his crew a weirded out look where no one with a camera could see it. Most of them smiled. McCoy was obviously still glaring and Spock obviously didn't smile.

"You know." Jim called when no one had bothered to ask any questions. "I thought you were all supposed to be clamoring for me to call on you to get your questions answered. This is almost boring."

"Kirk! Kirk! Are you in any relationships?"

"Kirk! What do you have to say about the paperwork that has reportedly come from your ship?"

"Kirk! What can you tell us about your previous diplomatic mission?"

"Kirk! Inquiring minds want to know, will you be clamoring for a position on the front lines?"

"Kirk! What do you think of having to have been saved by your crew?"

"Kirk! Kirk! Do you have any recommendations for other Captains?"

Jim grinned as he was suddenly overwhelmed with questions. They started to blur together into a chaotic fog of words.

"That's more like it!" Jim called over them. "There's the energy of the Federation! Now, if you don't mind, I've done my job here. I have worlds to save, a ship to see, and planets to explore. Adieu."

He grinned, slapping McCoy's shoulder on his way out. The crew blinked at the gaping reporters for a moment before shrugging and following him out. Jim was leaning on the outside of the building, panting heavily and hands shaking. McCoy was running a tricorder over him, scowling. Jim's brace was in one of the doctor's hands, moments from being shoved back into his.

"That was crazy." Sulu told him.

Jim nodded. "Sorry guys. That was a bit chaotic. And…unexpected."

"Indeed." Spock cocked his head to the side. "It would appear there are questions about our capabilities as a crew."

"There always are." Jim shrugged. "We're a young command crew."

"That's is." McCoy scowled, putting his tricorder away. "I don't like how these readings are looking. You're still too fatigued. Stay here. I'm getting you a wheelchair."

"Not happening Bones." Jim braced on his shoulder, trying to stand straight. "I'm not sitting in a wheelchair."

"Doctor McCoy." Spock stepped up to Jim's side, nodding once.

McCoy creased his brow, before his eyes widened and he scrambled back. Jim didn't get a chance to fall, as Spock scooped him up into his arms easily. Jim's mouth fell open in surprise and he threw his hands around the other man's neck to keep from falling.

"Damn it Spock!" He yelped in his ear. "You can't just pick me up!"

"I believe I have proven myself quite capable of doing so." Spock replied smugly, though he feigned indifference as he started towards the medical building. "For the benefit of my hearing, I would request you lower your volume while you are near my ear."

Jim flushed, ducking his head. "Oh God. I'm so fucking glad it's a weekend and no one is here to see this."

"Oh, we're here." Uhura reminded. "And we're the ones you have to serve with."

Jim groaned, resting his face in the crook of Spock's neck. "You still love me, right?"

Spock very nearly dropped him. "Captain. Perhaps this is not the best line of conversation?"

It took a moment for it to really sink in what he said. Jim groaned, face beat red as he murmured about being let to die now. He desperately wanted a wall to slam his head into. Hadn't it been nice, since he got back, with out the awkwardness of their kiss hanging over them and the tentative agreement to stay good friends?

"I hate you all." Jim mumbled. "How can they make an awesome movie about me if I don't get a big damn heroes moment? I swear. If my life was a video series there'd be an entire season's worth of raw footage of me being manhandled. Maybe more."

Spock remained silent, valiantly not paying attention to the sensation of Jim speaking into his neck. McCoy and Uhura exchanged exasperated looks. Giotto came trotting up, giving them a bemused look before shaking his head.

"Hey Captain." He fell into step with Spock. "So, my crew and your mother have been fully debriefed. They had us in there forever. We caught your interview though…"

"And?" Jim's full attention was on him, completely ignoring the indignity that was being carried.

"You looked good. Real good." Giotto shrugged awkwardly. "Like a starship captain should. You make a good poster boy. You've got energy. You're bombastic. You make it work. I almost believed you for a second, before I remembered I actually _know_ you."

"Bombastic…I like that word." Jim grinned. "And the only thing you know is you adore me Cupcake."

"Oh god. _That_ reminds me." Giotto growled. "You and your mother are terrors."

"My mother? Why is my mother so awful?"

"Two words: Air vents."

"Oh."

"Uh. Hey, Kirk." Sulu hesitated at the entrance to the hospital. "I think I'm going to go catch the botany lab. I'll catch you later."

"Da. I hawe things I must be attending asvell." Chekov shrugged.

"The lads have the righ' idea." Scotty waved him off.

"Well, I guess I should head out as well. See you as soon as you get out on your own." Uhura told him bluntly.

"I've got no excuse." Giotto shrugged. "I'm just ditching you."

"Traitors!" Jim huffed. "Fine. Leave. I'll have fun without you."

"I'm sure you will." McCoy rolled his eyes. "I have to sign you back in, but I'm leaving after that."

"I don't. Bye." Chapel turned on her heel and started off, starting the exodus to get away from him and the hospital.

Jim sulked in Spock's arms as they made their way to his room. McCoy did as he promised, signing him in and checking his vitals before excusing himself. Jim grumbled a bit more, settling into the bed.

"You aren't leaving?" He asked when Spock took the seat by his bed.

"I believe we have much to discuss."

Jim nodded, sighing. "Where do I even start?"

"The beginning." Spock perched in the seat displaying none of the anxiousness he felt.

Jim winced. "Yeah. Okay. I've owed you that for a long time. My mother met him when I was six. They dated for a year before he really got to meet Sam and I. He took an instant interest in me, talking with me, hanging out with me, being the father I never had. Sam wasn't jealous, he was happy I finally had someone to look up to. He had always had Dad, so he didn't resent me getting attention. Mom was just glad I had a strong male figure in my life.

"He started taking me on fishing trips, drives, good family fun bonding things. That…was when he started molesting me. It was little, incongruent touches at first, it never really got _that_ far, but there was no mistaking what he was doing. He told me not to tell Sam, so he wouldn't get jealous that I was getting more attention than him. Not to tell my mom because it was a guy thing. I didn't know better, had no idea I should. I wasn't quite comfortable with it, but he was the closest thing I had to a father.

"It went on like that for four years. My mom though he was going to propose soon, since he had said he wanted to wait until we were both old enough to decide if we _really_ wanted him as a dad. One night, we heard shouting from down stairs. Sam and I made our way down. M-my mom always kept a phaser in the kitchen set to stun. He was trying to _rape_ her. I was confused and angry, and felt so betrayed. The report says I shot him five to eleven times. It was six exactly."

"On stun?" Spock asked, to clarify.

"On stun, not that it helped him any." Jim nodded grimly. "It paralyzed him, killed him. That's actually why they started issuing warnings not to stun someone consecutively more than four times. I guess they determined that was how many it took to kill him. My mother was shaken, bad. I'd never seen her so wrecked. She kept blaming herself, for letting a monster like that near us. I…I didn't want to make her feel any worse, so I didn't tell anyone. She left the planet, and us. I just wanted noticed. Eventually, I realized that I could get that attention with my body."

Jim glanced away for a moment, waiting for Spock to say something about it. Spock remained quiet, though, waiting patiently for what Jim wanted to say next.

"I _never_ propositioned anyone in Garrovick's family, but he found out I wasn't coming home because I was spending the night at women's houses." Jim fisted the bed sheet, eyes locked on his vitals. "He told me I was a bad influence. That no sixteen year old should act like that. He told me to straighten up or leave…I didn't have much at his place. I packed my bag that night and left. He didn't even try to help me, just…ug. I should have helped myself."

"One can not always be expected to handle their problems on their own." Spock told him. "I have sought counseling on multiple occasions for my own psychological difficulties from my youth. It was…exceptionally difficult, but Nyota encouraged me to do so, and I am better for it."

Jim's eyes watered. "Am I allowed to be happy? Spock? Am I? I…All I've ever had for so long has been tripping from one disaster in my life to another. Can I have something good? Can…can you save me from myself?"

Spock placed his hand over Jim's carefully. "You may, Jim. You may have as many happy moments as you please. The crew and myself will always be willing to give you those moments. You need not even ask. But you must allow us to do so for you. You can not run away from me when you feel pain. So long as you tell me, I will offer you any assistance you may need."

Jim nodded, wiping his face with his free hand. "Thank you."

Spock hesitated, debating if now was the time to discuss the issue of his feelings for Jim, or if it would simply be yet another incident of sharing and understanding, and then disaster. For Jim's sake, he decided they would broach that topic at another time. For now, he simply wanted to help, and to understand.

"So…" Jim started when Spock didn't speak. "Fitzpatrick?"

Spock nodded. "I had not wished to inform you, believing you would confront him."

"I would have." Jim admitted. "I never really thanked you for looking out for me. Thank you."

Spock twitched through a faint smirk. "You are welcome, Jim."

"Am I interrupting?"

The both snapped their heads up to see Pike wheeling himself in. Spock snatched his hand back, standing quickly.

"Admiral."

"Don't get up on my account." Pike waved him down, smirking. "I'm just here to check up on you two. This is an unofficial visit. If it were official, I'd have to discuss your treatment of those reporters with you, since no one was happy to have to deal with them after you left."

Jim grinned, shrugging. "It worked, didn't it?"

"Almost too well." Pike admitted. "I don't think anyone thinks a Captain can be that well off after being tortured. Some 'news' outlets are already insinuating the whole thing was propaganda. That's not the majority opinion, mind you, but it's out there."

Jim sighed, shaking his head. Spock, who had taken his seat again, raised both eyebrows at the ridiculousness of it.

Pike gestured around his head at the absurdity of it all. "But still. You did look good. Just as confident as ever. I knew I was right to get you to join Starfleet. I dare say _I_ felt more confident after watching you talk."

Jim ducked his head bashfully. "Thank you. Really. It was only just recently I decided not to resign from my position as Captain." Pike didn't show surprise, but waited for him to continue. "I'm starting to think I need comment cards on my ship, because the ship as a whole doesn't communicate enough. I was getting the wrong impression of what they thought of me."

"That was exactly the impression Fitzpatrick wanted you to get." Pike told him. "Truth be told, we haven't mentioned his trial to anyone. But you know how those vultures are. He had people working to undermine your ship. They've been dealt with."

"I appreciate that." Jim nodded to him. "Any idea what's going to happen to my crew now?"

Pick shook his head. "We decided to wait a few days to see what's going to happen now that they know we've got you back."

"Alright." Jim nodded.

Pike glanced at Spock, who had remained patiently silent, and smirked. "I think I'll leave you two be now. Just be sure, if you see that healer friend of yours, you tell him I've got the idea. He and his wife can stop 'educating' me."

Spock's eyebrows swung up. "Affirmative."

Pike wheeled himself out, satisfied smirk still in place. Jim plucked at the blanket he was currently sitting on, avoiding eye contact. Spock waited patiently, expecting no further discussion, but willing to provide Jim with his company until he was asked to leave. Jim wasn't sure, but he was hoping that was the reason. Still, something nagged at him.

"There's something I don't get." Jim didn't raise his gaze, or his voice, for that matter.

Were it not for the serious tone, Spock would have felt obligated to reply that this was unsurprising, instead he inclined his head to the side. "In what regard?"

Jim peered up at him, not even managing to really bring his lips up into a grateful smile. "I saw the video. I mean…I looked awful. But they only showed me from the waist up…so why did they attack my legs?"

Spock raised his eyebrows. "You suspect their torture was merely to demoralize the Federation?"

"That." Jim admitted. "Since they said as much…but…"

"Yes?" Spock prompted, earning a surprised blink.

"But I wasn't awake for it." Jim only just remembered that he hadn't actually explained to anyone but McCoy about the drug in his system. "They did what they did to my chest and my hands, and then left in frustration. This Cardassian injected me with a drug…it…messed with my mind. I don't remember much after that, until I woke up. I…I was in a nightmare."

Spock was very quiet, watching Jim pluck at a fray in his blanket. He estimated it would produce a small hole in 5.63 minutes at the current rate Jim was worrying it. Gently, furrowing his brow, he reached out tentatively and brushed his fingers against Jim's forearm. Jim looked up at him in surprise.

"You have suffered through much." He spoke softly, brown eyes warm. "I have never had the pleasure of knowing a being as strong and brilliant as you. You are an unrelenting force, Jim. For that, I am grateful."

Jim hung his head, hiding his wet eyes. "I…when it got really bad, the physical torture…I thought about you. You got me through it."

Jim gulped as he looked up to see the look on Spock's face. His eyes were wide, dark and full of a deepness that drew Jim in, made him want to stare forever. Spock was stunned. He didn't know what to say, what he should be feeling, but his whole body was alight with warmth. Jim. Jim's eyes were wide, shinning with tears that didn't seem to reflect pain. His eyes, that had been white and empty, were alight with a blue that existed no other place. _Morpho menelaus _and a light composed solely of a wavelength of 475nm were dull and less blue than Jim's eyes. Bluer than blue.

Carefully, Spock took Jim's hand in his, squeezing gently. Jim found a genuine grin to give him, squeezing back tightly, tears leaking from the corner of his eyes.

"Thank you. Thank you for being my friend. For believing in me, for everything." Jim's voice cracked, but he didn't care.

"Thank you for allowing me the privilege of doing so." Spock retorted, heartfelt though his voice didn't share it.

Jim glanced down at their hands and chuckled. "I'm going to kiss you and you're going to pretend this isn't awkward at all, alright?"

"I believe a kiss is…while not standard…an accepted method of affection and appreciation between friends?" Spock smirked ever so slightly, though his heart was racing.

There was sadness in Jim's touch, unease pulsing through his skin, and Spock wondered if perhaps his word choice was wrong. Gently, Jim moved his hand, pressing their fingers together carefully, fleetingly. Spock leaned over, placing a temperate, chaste kiss on the corner of Jim's mouth. Jim gulped tightly, staring at him a moment before smiling shyly.

"I needed that." Jim admitted.

"I am all too…happy…to oblige." Spock inclined his head and quirked an eyebrow, daring him to call him on his use of an emotion.

Jim just grinned, retrieving his hands fully to himself and snorting in amusement. "Wonder how far I can push that…"

"Farther than you suspect, but not in the direction you desire to go." Spock answered truthfully, mischievous amusement in his eyes.

Jim laughed, feeling somehow relieved by that, though their was a distinct undercurrent cause by their poor communication. "How about something to drink?"

"Very well." Spock stood, hands behind his back. Carefully, he leaned over and pressed a ghost of a kiss into Jim's hair.

Jim chuckled, swatting him away playfully. "I'm not a kid!"

"No." Spock agreed. "You are not a child."

… .. .

If she was honest, which she always was, because she'd long made it her policy that lying hurt more than anything else, she wasn't actually expecting this. Winona knew Jim and Spock were close. Knew they were in love, for neutrino's sake. But she also knew how important appearances were to Spock, and she was quite up to date on how poorly they communicated.

Still, seeing the prim and proper Vulcan asleep pillowed on his arm resting half sitting in the chair, and half on Jim's biobed was quite a shock. Jim had managed to curl into a ball, practically wrapped around the free arm of the young Vulcan without actually touching him.

The sight was as heartbreaking as it was heartwarming.

Jim and Spock both looked so young, hair in disarray and looking rumpled like only children could. For a moment, she wondered what it would have been like, had they known each other then. She thinks, perhaps, they could have saved themselves all this trouble, could have been willing to admit immediately what everyone could see. Such young, stupid boys.

Carefully, so as not to wake the soft sleeper or his Vulcan friend, she slipped out of the room. Jim would still be there in the morning, and maybe she could apologize for all those lost years, and start to bridge the gap between them.

… .. .

Déjà vu.

It was a Terran phrase of French origin translating to 'already seen'. The concept was a feeling of intimate familiarity with an occurrence, often jarring in observance due to the undertone of having transpired before in an eerily similar manner.

The phrase was, illogically, Spock's first thought as Jim jolted awake, a scream in his throat and feral look in his eyes. Spock was half kneeling on the bed next to him in an instant, whispering soothing words in Vulcan and gently brushing his hands through Jim's hair, over his shoulders, back. Jim panted, trying to register what had happened.

The dream faded and Jim launched himself forward, burying his face in Spock's chest, whimpering. The door banged open a second later and McCoy was on them with a tricorder.

"What happened? Jim, what happened?" McCoy tugged at his arm to get his attention when he found nothing with his scan.

Jim whimpered, shaking his head. Spock glanced at McCoy unsure how to proceed. McCoy stood, running shaky fingers through his hair. Another nightmare. He'd been afraid of that.

McCoy froze, half way through another shaky raking of his hand. He could hardly believe his eyes, but he would swear Spock looked so utterly lost and in love that it hurt. McCoy glanced away, feeling uncomfortable seeing such a look in the unreadable man.

"Doctor?" Spock turned to look at him. "Is everything alright?"

McCoy looked back in time to catch the wistful, devastated look on Jim's face as he pulled away. Jim's face was immediately set in stone, steely and a little hurt.

"I'm fine."

Spock's attention returned to him, concerned, but nearly clinical. "You were distressed. It is not an abnormal occurrence for adult humans. Nor is it something to be ashamed of. If you are in need of assistance-"

"I'm fine." Jim ground out, throwing a pleading look to McCoy.

"Physically, I agree with you." McCoy shrugged. "I can't assess your mental health, but I can get Stonn in here if you think it's necessary."

Jim shook his head, flushing a little. "I don't really want him in my head anymore."

For a moment, Spock warred with being smugly satisfied the Jim did not with to share his mind with Stonn and wishing for Stonn to do so anyway to assess his health. The defiant Captain had already started to work his way back under the covers, tugging valiantly at the part pinned under Spock's knee. Said Vulcan quickly vacated the bed, cheeks flushed.

He found he could not even recall the words he whispered to Jim in his haste to calm him. And wondered not for the first time if perhaps Jim was something of a bad influence on him. He would have never imagined speaking words without properly thinking them through before meeting the young cadet and future captain. Not Spock. But that was exactly what he had done.

With a dubious look, McCoy left, deciding the morning was for berating his long time friend. Jim mumbled something about being tired and curled up on himself.

Spock watched him a moment, to determine that he had actually drifted off to sleep. When he was content that he had done so, Spock settled himself in his seat and, for the first time in days, allowed himself to truly be lost in his meditation. Unbeknownst to him, bright blue eyes peered through the darkness, envying the projection of calm, and wishing to truly know what it felt like, to share his meditation with him.

… … .. . .. … …

**Wow. We're getting so close to an end here. Just a few things to tie up left.**


	41. Chapter 41

**Don't own Star Trek.**

**Just a reminder: I adore all of my readers so very much.**

… … .. . .. … …

He had been going on bravado for so long, he didn't even know how to stand on his own. The fact that he was willing to admit that was the cause of his difficulties, and not the fully healed and ultimately _intentionally_ not crippling damage, was a measure of strength. It was the first step, so to speak, of being able to be the Captain he truly needed to be.

Jim swung his legs out of the bed, moving to stand on his own two feet. They were steady under him, though he couldn't help the small feeling curling in his stomach, trying to drive him to his knees. McCoy and Spock watched carefully, ensuring he was actually capable of remaining on his feet.

"You don't have to watch me dress." Jim reminded them as he pulled on his pants, trying not to be embarrassed by the scrutiny. "I'm a big boy now."

"Your legs may be healed, but you haven't really been on them yet. It might take some work to get them responding how you want." McCoy warned.

"So I'm a little sluggish and clumsy." Jim shrugged, pulling off the top he wore to bed. "I'll be fine in no time."

Spock made a strange little noise, eyes locked on the scar on Jim's side. Jim glanced at him, surprised, before staring down at the scar. It was fat and bright because of the stitches they had put in it, intrepidly mocking him. McCoy glanced between them and rolled his eyes.

"What?" Jim asked, running his fingers over the scar self-consciously.

"Forgive me." Spock murmured, eyes locked on the scar. "There are times when I neglect to take into account our varied anatomy."

Jim blinked, then it sank in and his eyes grew wide. "Your heart…When you saw it, you thought they'd killed me."

Spock flushed a pale green. "It was foolish of me to forget."

McCoy snorted. "Don't worry. I got the same jolt as you and I remembered where his heart was."

Jim grimaced. "Cut the gloom guys. I'm right here and I'm not dead. Here. Touch me yourself."

Upon saying that, he grabbed his First Officer and his CMO's wrists and dragged their hands over. He settled McCoy's hand on the scar at his side and Spock's on the Starfleet insignia carved over his heart. Both men paused a moment before yanking their hands back at the same time, sharing what could be constituted as an embarrassed glance. McCoy scowled at Jim, and he laughed.

"Captain." Spock scolded, ears deep green. "I would remind you that such behavior is inappropriate. Such intimate touches are not to be done in public."

Jim wanted to stay quiet, he really did, but he couldn't help it. "Want to take this somewhere private?"

Spock's eyes widened and his whole face flushed a dusty green. McCoy groaned, slapping Jim on the side of his head and giving him a warning look. Jim glanced between the two and promptly went scarlet.

"Sorry." Jim scratched the back of his neck, ducking his head. "Sorry. That…yeah…I forgot flirting was off limits."

Spock righted himself, blood flow completely under control. "It is of no consequence, Jim. I would not ask you to change who you are."

Jim found an honest grin in there somewhere, beaming at Spock. The moment was broken by the door banging open and a panting, slightly harried Uhura stepping into the room.

"Kirk! Turn on the feed." She told him even as she did it her self, setting the television to a news channel.

"-and are pleased to say the two baby pandas are doing well. Back to you." A fluff piece reporter finished what he was saying and sent it back to the news room.

A blond anchor thanked him before a grim look settled on her face. "So once again, we'd like to talk about our breaking news story. A Klingon armada has reportedly destroyed three Cardassian vessels after the Cardassian leaders officially announced their intent to withdraw from the war. This announcement came just minutes before the attack. Speculation is that the decision was made in light of Captain James Tiberius Kirk's full recovery after his torture and subsequent rescue. Captain Kirk was confident that he would be back in space in no time at his press conference yesterday.

"The Klingons have made no official announcement in light of their former allies' withdrawal. Klingon armadas are retreating towards their own space, however none have actually crossed the neutral zone and returned to their home planet."

Uhura flicked it off there, turning excitedly to the three shocked men. Spock was staring at the far wall, considering what he had just heard. McCoy was staring at her, shocked and not really sure where to start processing things. Jim was sitting on his bed, eyes blown wide and staring off at the same far wall as Spock. Apparently it was a very helpful wall.

"The Cardassians actually withdrew." Jim sounded stunned.

"Hey, you're the one who said it first." McCoy reminded. "Doomed from the start, was it?"

Jim blinked before nodding. "I wasn't expecting it to be _that_ easy. It's never _that_ easy. I have a feeling this is going to be looming over us for years."

"War has a funny way of doing that." Uhura plopped down on the bed next to him, eyeing the scars. "Are you going to get treatment to fade the scars?"

Jim shrugged. "I kind of like them."

"Mm." Uhura smiled, poking his side gently. "Figures you would. Congratulations Kirk."

"On what?"

"On finally shaping up to be the Captain everyone knew you could be." Uhura hopped off the bed, sly smile in place. "Now don't screw up your captainly appearance by hiding on the holodeck all day."

Jim grinned. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

She beamed. "Alright already. I have to go. I'm meeting Chapel and Rand for breakfast."

"Gossiping about me?" Jim smirked.

"You wish." She winked at McCoy. "Go talk to Pike. Last I heard he wanted to talk about the ship once we knew what they were going to do since you got better. Now we know."

Jim grimaced a little. "Yeah. They might not know yet. This is big. They'll probably want to talk about it amongst themselves. I'll head over to his office anyway."

"Do you want to take the hobgoblin or can I steal him for the day?" McCoy asked, earning purely shocked looks. "What?"

"You want to spend time with Spock?" Jim asked, almost aghast.

"I need to talk with him about a few things." McCoy scowled when the curious looks didn't fall. "Doctor-patient things."

Jim shrugged, knowing a dismissal when he heard one. "Yeah. Alright. If Spock wants to stay here, he can. I should probably speak to Pike on my own anyway. Show how mature I can be and that I don't need my First Officer holding my hand all the time."

Uhura snorted, then giggled, finally breaking down laughing. McCoy looked like he would join her if it wasn't undignified and would ruin his gloating smirk. Spock just quirked an eyebrow. Jim sighed, shaking his head.

"Only on my ship would that actually be a thing." He stood, starting towards the door. "I'll see you guys later. Have a good day."

… .. .

Jim froze, ear pressed to Pike's door. He was going to be in so much trouble if someone saw him, or if they came out.

Stonn's voice was quite clear through the door. "So you see the importance of allowing a Vulcan to stay with their mate?"

"For the last time." Pike ground out. "I get it. Why are you drilling this so much?"

"We do not wish for Starfleet to make the erroneous decision to separate Kirk and Spock, should they form a relationship, without knowing all of the facts." T'Pring announced.

Jim's breathing hitched and he scowled, sinking to the ground next to the door. His mind. He'd known Stonn had seen things in his mind, but that he would be going so far…He had to fix this, had to correct the misinterpretation. And Pike…god, he was going to have to talk to Pike. With a groan, he stood up and opened the door.

Pike, T'Pring, and Stonn snapped their attention to him, all giving him a mildly interested look.

"Spock and I aren't going to be in any relationship." Jim announced, hands on his hips and scowl in place. "I would appreciate it, Stonn, if you didn't tell anyone what you saw in my head."

"I have done no such thing."

Pike leaned forward, smirking. "You think his desire to help ensure you two can stay together is based off of something he saw in your head? I just though it was what _everyone_ could see."

Jim flushed. "I…W-what? No. I…It isn't like that."

"Isn't it?" Pike glanced at T'Pring and Stonn, who both lifted their eyebrows.

Jim scowled, glancing sideways in embarrassment. "We've already talked about it. He doesn't like me like I like him."

Jim flinched at the loud bang as Pike dropped his cup. Stonn's hand shot out, catching it before the coffee could spill. Jim gawked at their responses. Pike was staring, mouth hanging open and blinking at him. Stonn was half crouched, to catch the cup, and staring at Jim in amazement with both eyebrows winged up. T'Pring's brow was furrowed, her lips pouted ever so slightly and confusion evident in her eyes.

"What?"

"You talked to Spock about your feelings…." Pike started.

"And were rejected?" Stonn finished, straightening himself and returning Pike's coffee to the desk.

Jim flushed scarlet. "It bothers me how many people I've had to explain this to."

T'Pring shook her head minutely. "What, exactly, was your conversation?"

"You guys aren't going to drop this until I tell you, are you?" Jim scowled as they watched him patiently. "Okay. Okay. This goes against all kinds of rules on my privacy. We agreed that we could both work past this crush and stay friends."

"You informed him of your desire for a romantic relationship?" Stonn almost sounded suspicious, but not quite managing to infuse emotion in it.

Jim's blush deepened and he stared down at his feet like a reprimanded child. "I kissed him." He glanced up after a minute of silence, waiting for some kind of response and just not getting one. "Are you all going to stay silent or are you going to start harping on me?"

"You poor boy." Pike sighed, resting his head in his hands. "I'm too old for this. Why are you even in my office?"

"I came to see if you knew what the Enterprise was going to be doing." Jim furrowed his brow, half thankful and half confused by the change in topic.

"No. Get out." Pike shrugged. "Give us another day or two to figure out what we're doing with this half war."

"Yes sir." Jim glanced at Stonn and T'Pring. "You and I need to have words. Walk with me?"

Stonn nodded his agreement. "Live long and prosper, Admiral Pike."

Jim waited until they were a ways out of the building, meandering around the perfectly manicured lawns of Starfleet academy to start talking. He didn't bother asking T'Pring to leave, knowing she was fully aware of what had been going on in his mind as well.

"About what you saw…"

"If you do not wish to discuss the thought to which you clung whilst in the safety of your mind, you need not. I have no intent of discussing this matter with an unrelated party."

Jim nodded, then shook his head, sighing. "It isn't that. I want to explain."

Stonn and T'Pring both winged up eyebrows at him, almost creepily, as if asking what he thought they couldn't have figured out from his brain alone. It was enough to give him a moment's pause, wondering if perhaps they did understand.

"I just want you to know, that monster you saw there…that wasn't me." Jim told them. "That will never be me."

"Kirk…Jim." Stonn paused, as if not sure it was appropriate to use his name. "In the thought you had constructed around you, you had been too late to save Spock from the phaser shot. He, in your stead, was captured. This, as well as your own perceived slights upon him set you upon a downward spiral of dark, dangerous behavior. In your fictional scenario, you instigated the creation of a militaristic, dangerous empire in the Federation's stead, for the sole purpose of saving Spock.

"While misguided, and built solely upon the principle of undermining each other's work to become the strongest, your empire was designed with the intent to gain a certain manner of strength necessary to retrieve Spock. It further proved impossible to disband, though you made numerous attempts, after his retrieval. You even willingly let Spock choose not to be with you, in this scenario, when he made it clear what he thought of your actions. I find myself curious, Jim, as to why such a being as you made yourself to be should be considered a monster."

Jim stared dumfounded a moment. "I…But I hurt people."

"As would I." T'Pring told him. "Were I in such a position. What do you feel for Spock, Jim, that you believe is so wrong?"

Jim didn't answer, eyes flying wide. Stonn and T'Pring took that as their cue to leave. He thought he'd had it figured out, but…but what did he feel for Spock? Would it have been the same for any of his crew…or…or was there something else there. T'Pring was a Vulcan, but for Stonn…for the man she loved…

Oh Fuck.

… .. .

"May I inquire as to why you requested my presence, Doctor?" Spock asked, just after Jim left.

McCoy snorted, shaking his head. "I'd say call me by my name, but this isn't _just_ a friendly chat. I've been reading into the information you Vulcans have been sharing, and I spoke with M'Benga, and now I need to speak to you."

"Very well."

"First things first, embarrassment or not, you need to let me know when your Pon Farr starts." He watched Spock flush green and smirked. "Second, you need to maintain mental connections. If they start to feel strained, tell me. Third, you're still a little low on your irons. I haven't been getting on you for it lately, but one Jim on my hands is enough."

"Indeed." Spock understood clearly that no good would come of trying to argue on any of the mentioned topics.

"Now." McCoy sighed, rubbing at his neck. "About you and Jim-no don't give me that look-you are completely head over heels for him. You can't keep living like this. Constantly being on the edge of your seat, taking every wound to Jim personally, dieing a little inside every day. You need to knock that shit off."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I am sure I do not-"

"Don't lie to me and say you have no idea what I'm talking about." McCoy snarled. "I saw the look on your face. You can't tell me you have this under control. He woke up saying _your_ name god damn it and if you two are too stupid to figure out that maybe you aren't as smart as you think and can't figure out two plus two is a god damn four than I don't know how this ship will survive. We have the two smartest tacticians of Starfleet on one ship and even they can't see how they feel for each other."

Spock's eyes widened and he sat on the bed, a little too fast to have been voluntary. "Are you insinuating that Jim returns my feelings?"

McCoy's eyes widened. "Oh damn it. I…uh…shit."

… .. .

Slamming into people, Uhura couldn't help but notice from her new spot on the ground, was never as cute in real life as it was in the movies. Having just finished breakfast, Rand and Chapel were fortunately there to help her up. She wasn't much help herself, however, staring at her captain who was also now seated on the ground.

"What the hell Kirk?" She asked, finally standing and brushing dirt off her clothes.

Jim's head snapped up, too slowly, and he stared at her without seeing much. His eyes were rimmed with red, wild and the women were just beginning to get the hint that his sharp, shuddering breaths weren't from running.

"Captain?" Chapel took a knee next to him, hand immediately searching his pulse at his wrist. "Oh god. He's having a panic attack."

They quickly moved him to a bench nearby, curious at the way he seemed completely oblivious to what was happening around him.

"Come on…" Chapel shook him gently, trying to get him to look at her. "You need to talk to me Kirk. What happened?"

Jim just continued to stare blankly, heart beat racing and breathing difficult. Uhura bit her lip, leaning down to be on level with him and cupping his face in her hands. Even that got no reaction out of him.

"Jim." She whispered softly, earning a faint eye flicker in recognition. "Jim what's wrong? Do you need me to get McCoy? Spock?"

Jim inhaled sharply at that name, heart racing wildly as he opened and closed his mouth like he was trying to say something, but couldn't get the air to do it. Uhura glanced worriedly at Chapel, who was calling for McCoy on her communicator. Rand sat down next to him, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

"What happened…Jim? What's wrong?" She murmured hesitantly, casting worried looks to Uhura and Chapel.

"It-it…I...I…T-th-that is…It…" Jim struggled for words, voice broken and rasping.

"Shh. Shh. It's alright." Chapel told him encouragingly. "It's alright. What is it?"

Jim croaked out a horse, sob like sound, voice thick and painful. "I love him."

All three wisely remained quiet, though parts of them wanted to be enthusiastic about him finally realizing how he felt for his First Officer. Ensuring he was alright was top priority.

"Okay." Rand agreed helpfully. "That's…good, right? Love is a good thing. Take deep breaths. It's alright. Love isn't all that different from liking."

"I can't love him!" Jim cried in pain. "I…I can't…not that…I can't have a relationship with him."

Chapel glanced up from where she was timing his pulse, feeling a little better that he was getting his breathing under control. Uhura frowned, kneeling on the ground in front of him to get a better look at his face. He was stricken, pale and gaunt.

"What do you mean?" She frowned, wondering if perhaps Jim _did_ know he had dismissed Spock's feelings and not just his own.

Jim squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the world. "I can't be with him. Not like that. Can't think of him like that…_touch_ him like that."

Rand and Chapel both reared back, looks of confusion and annoyance on their faces. They both looked to Uhura to confirm that he had just implied what they thought he did. Her pretty face was twisted with disgust and anger.

"You sick, immature _cadet_." She hissed, rocking back on her heels to stand. "Not every relationship is about _sex_. You don't love him. You don't even know what love is. You don't deserve a loving, caring relationship like that when all you can think about is how you can get sex out of it. I don't know why I ever thought you had changed."

She shook with anger, already regretting her words. Chapel scowled, conflicted in how she should feel about the entire revelation. Rand shook her head and sighed, wondering just what trouble was in the process of brewing. Jim careened to his feet, barreling blindly away from them. Uhura shook her head, glancing at the two women with her.

"I…I'll get around to apologizing." She sighed, rubbing at one eye in exasperation. "I really didn't mean that."

… .. .

"What?" McCoy grumbled, glancing over to where he walked away from Spock to answer his comm. "He's having another panic attack? Alright. I'll be there immediately."

McCoy sighed, glancing at Spock, who was watching closely, waiting for some king of acknowledgment. He waved him over, immediately telling him Jim was having a panic attack. Spock immediately asked why he would want him to accompany him. McCoy informed him he was responsible for the last two and may be useful.

He certainly wasn't expecting to find just the girls when he approached. "Where the hell is Jim?"

"He ran off." Chapel admitted awkwardly.

"What? Why?" McCoy scowled, noticing the guilty glances. "What was the panic attack about?"

"Uh…" Rand glanced at Spock and quickly returned her gaze to McCoy.

Said doctor rolled his eyes. "Cat's out of the bag. I already accidentally told him Jim has a crush on him. We've spent the last ten minutes hashing out that yes, they're idiots. Now what exactly happened?"

"Kirk was having a panic attack about…just how _much_ he liked Spock." Rand pointedly didn't say love, but McCoy caught the implication immediately.

"He said he couldn't have a relationship with Spock, implying it was because he didn't want a sexual relationship with him." Uhura's voice was still tight. "I kind of blew up at him for the immaturity of it."

Spock inhaled sharply and glanced at McCoy. "Doctor. If Jim was referring to-"

"I know." McCoy bit out quickly, already pulling his communicator out of his pocket. "Fuck, Giotto, get all of campus security looking for our captain. He's a danger to himself right now."

Giotto's confused voice responded immediately. "The hell? Is everything alright?"

"No it isn't." McCoy shut his communicator, glancing witheringly at Uhura. "Sometimes you know the exactly _wrong_ thing to say."

"Leonard." She caught his arm before he could hurry off. "What's going on?"

"I can't tell you." McCoy said tightly, voice aching with it. "I can't. Not something like this. Not about Jim."

Uhura was a smart girl. Jim's entire crew was. They had always seemed to know when something was going on and especially when someone was keeping information from them. It was no surprise that they could add one and one and one, and get three. It was also no surprise they could take 198, divide by 66, and get three. So it was no surprise when something clicked, not a full picture, but enough for them to realize how horribly wrong they were about Jim.

"You said he was a danger to himself." Chapel asked. "Do you think he'll…?"

"No." McCoy shook his head. "But there's a chance he'll get hurt. We have to find him before he blindly runs into trouble."

"Yeoman." Spock glanced over from where he had been scanning the grounds. "You stated the reason of his panic attack as his amorous feeling for me?"

Rand flushed a little. "Yes."

"Which way did he run?"

"Um…That way." She pointed roughly the direction he sprinted off. "But I doubt he just ran straight."

"Indeed." Spock nodded to the doctor. "I believe it is an appropriate place to start, however. Please inform me if he is found."

McCoy watched him race off, marveling at how he was actually running somewhere. He glanced at the girls and shook his head. Only Jim. Uhura nodded to him and immediately started off another direction. Rand and Chapel split seconds later, ready to scour the campus entirely for their wayward Captain. McCoy scowled, wishing it had happened on the ship. The ship was confined, eventually he could be found on the ship. They didn't even know if he was still on campus, heaven forbid he make it to a transport and skip the whole damn state.

… .. .

Spock was conflicted. Jim returned his feelings. All at once it seemed so easy to see how they had continually 'just missed each other' as Doctor McCoy phrased it. His heart practically soared at the sheer level of devotion and maturity Jim had displayed, since his own discovery of his feelings. More than anything, he wanted to hold Jim in his arms and tell him it was alright, tell him he could have the relationship he desired and that he would do everything in his power to ensure every moment of their relationship was filled with devotion and understanding.

But…Jim didn't _want_ a relationship. Spock thought he understood that, now. The people Jim had put trust in before, put effort into knowing, had abandoned him at the first sign of trouble. He had been abused in many ways before, used and taught that love was nothing more than a weakness to be exploited. Taught that feeling for someone would only lead to pain. Worse yet, taught that love only made you hurt others.

Spock could see it now, how Jim was afraid of hurting him, just as he was afraid of being hurt. Jim didn't want a relationship with him, because he didn't want to see it turn into one of the many destructive things he had had before. Couldn't create a disconnect between what that man had done to him and how every relationship with a man would be. Couldn't conceive a relationship not becoming sexual, because those relationships were far and few between for him and most less than ideal.

Further, it was likely that if they were to pursue an amorous relationship, rather than simply a friendly one, there would be intimacies, not necessarily sexual in nature, but far closer than Jim would be comfortable with. Even simple touches, kisses and holding one another was likely to take on sexual connotations in light of Jim's past and leave him feeling uncomfortable and trapped. He was aware of his limitations and did not wish to enter into relationship where neither party would gain the full benefit of it, or even come close without a great expense on the others part.

What Jim neglected to account for, however, was that Spock was Vulcan.

He'd spent his entire life waiting for someone to understand him and accept him as he was. He'd wait forever if it meant helping Jim to realize he had found that too. He would spend a lifetime wooing him, if it meant he was allowed to stay at his side, just knowing his amorous feelings weren't undesired. And though the thought of holding Jim close and placing fluttering kisses of both human and Vulcan design across his skin was a welcome one, Spock knew there was more to love and affection than physical displays.

He'd spent a lifetime watching his mother and father never touch. He understood now that there was no better way they could have shown their love for each other than simply to stand at each others side, even when they were not called upon to do so. Never a touch or whispered word to show the other how they felt, never a smile or a glance spared for the other, never a tear shed. But Spock could see now, now that he had experienced love, and truly knew what it was to feel so deeply for another, he could see now how every moment of their lives together was filled with devotion and a love so strong it hurt. Right or wrong, even when it would have been easier to leave.

He only hoped that he could show Jim this and that no matter how far they must be from each other, Jim would understand. Spock would wait a life time for him because there was so much more to what he felt than the need for physical gratification. And he would show Jim that he could have love anyway, without fear and without pressure or expectations.

Spock froze as the door opened, eyes falling immediately to the middle of the room, where Jim sat, head buried in his knees and arms wrapped around his legs, tucked into the chair that suddenly seemed too large. Slowly, Jim tilted his head to look up at him, blue eyes rimmed with red and cheeks stained with tears. Spock cocked his head to the side, brown eyes softening as he stepped in, allowing the door to fall shut behind him.

"Spock." Jim's voice was hoarse and needy.

"I'm here, Jim." Spock told him. "And I do not intend to ever leave you."

A fresh round of tears spilled out from Jim's eyes. "I can't win."

Spock glanced around the simulation room, understanding why Jim would choose the setting of the Kobayashi Maru for this discussion. "Then I believe it is time we change the parameters of the test."

"But…"

"Jim." Spock shook his head lightly. "I love you."

Jim inhaled softly, sharply, and his tears became heavier as he shut his blue eyes. "I…I can't."

"You do not have to." Spock told him softly. "It is well enough that I can serve with you. But I shall always love you, Jim. I am content just that you are aware of this and will not ask me to stop harboring amorous emotions for you."

Jim opened his eyes, disbelief clear in them. "I…I'm too selfish, Spock. I can't let you just _give_. I'd just take everything you have to offer and I'd hurt you. You wouldn't get anything out of this relationship. I…I'm not strong enough to tell you I…I'm just not."

"Jim." Spock came to stand in front of him, an eyebrow raised challengingly. "Is it entirely inconceivable for you that I may derive enjoyment from seeing you happy?"

"That isn't how people work Spock."

"Than it is fortunate I am not of the same manner of people that you are used to, Jim." Spock felt a smirk tug at his lips in spite of everything.

Jim stared down at the ground, tucking in tighter on himself. "I want to get better. I want to be able to be like everyone else."

"I do not." Spock folded his arms at his back. "You are the first to make me truly realize I can simply be myself, Jim. If you will allow me, I will show you that you need not be anyone other than yourself either."

Jim stared up at him, a weak, unsure smile tugging at his lips. "Do you think I'll get there someday?"

"With time and effort, Jim." Spock offered his hand, wide and splayed. "But not until you have decided that is what you desire and started towards that goal."

Carefully, unfolding himself and setting his feet on the ground, Jim placed his hand in Spock's. Gently, Spock tugged him to his feet, squeezing his hand affectionately in a gesture of comfort. Jim squeezed back, blue eyes locked on brown, waiting for the jarring awakening, for something to rip this away from him.

"I believe we should inform the crew you have been safely located." Spock told him.

Jim's eyes widened. "The entire crew?"

"Doctor McCoy and I were worried for your safety." Spock started for the door, pulling Jim with him. "I believe you will find the entire crew cares for your wellbeing and wishes nothing more that to serve with you."

Jim wiped at the tears in his eyes, bright smile in place. "I think I'm ready to face them."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "You do not have to 'face them' Jim. They will always 'have your back' so to speak."

Jim chuckled softly. "When are you going to say it like you actually mean it? I know you understand every one of theses idioms."

"Perhaps when I am strong enough."

Jim smiled. "We both have goals to work towards then."

"Indeed. Together."

… … .. . .. … …

**We're almost there.** **I wouldn't recommend using Chapel's method of dealing with someone's panic attack. Shaking is generally always a bad idea.**


	42. Chapter 42

**I don't own Star Trek.**

**To all my readers, new, old, finding this a year after it's been finished (don't laugh: it could happen) I'm glad you've stuck through this entire thing with me. It was the first real fic of mine I forced myself to meet my deadlines on and I'm glad I managed to do that. All of your support, from just reading it to those amazing people who actually reviewed, helped so much.**

**That's why I hope this ending is as satisfying to you as the fact that I was able to complete it is to me. After everything you've given me, I hope this fic is enough to repay your kind words, encouragement, and helpful advice. With luck, I'll become a better, stronger writer and I hope to do this again someday. What's more, I hope you'll join me for that too, when I eventually get there. Feel free to badger me to write any time you please.**

**Without further gilded words; Enjoy.**

… … .. . .. … …

All anyone could talk about was the speculation of what next. The admiralty was clamoring for Jim to make another press statement. To make a big show of just how well he was and just how little the Klingons and Cardassians mattered to the Starfleet flagship and the poster child of hard work. Jim declined, informing them that it wasn't his job to represent Starfleet in those kinds of situations.

Rand found him eventually and forced him to sit down and get caught up on his paperwork. He wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh that there were forms he had to fill out for getting captured and tortured, or if he wanted to scream at the stupidity of it all. The paperwork being demanded was suspiciously light and he suspected that had something to due with Fitzpatrick's sudden and dubious retirement.

True to his crews form, no one resigned from his crew, though Jim had personal meetings with each and every one of them. There were a few statements of concern regarding their current direction and such, but by the end of the meetings, Jim had a better understanding of his crew and they apparently had a better understanding of him.

His command crew he ordered in for a personal meeting and briefing as an entire group.

Sulu, Chekov, Uhura, McCoy, Giotto, Scotty, and Spock were seated around a table, all eyes on him. Jim sighed, rubbing at his eyes a little and wondering why he decided he needed to do this one that day, rather than waiting for the next morning.

"I suppose I should start this off by thanking all of you." Jim fixed each of them with a serious look. "If you ever do something that stupid again, I'll put all of you in the brig."

A few small smiles broke out and Jim smiled at them. Everyone seemed to relax all at once. This was how his crew handled things.

"As most of you know, I've had the entire crew in and out of here the past couple of days, discussing their opinion on the ship and my job as captain." Jim crossed his legs, threading his fingers together against the desk. "Most of them are actually pretty confident in my ability to captain the ship; I've ordered the majority of them to speak with a therapist." There was a laugh through most of them, and he smiled tightly. "Seriously, though. I have. I think you guys probably should too."

"Vhy are ve being ordered therapies?" Chekov glanced around to meet equally confused looks.

"I want everyone to have at least one session to make sure they're alright. I've also ordered the civilians that were on my ship to speak to therapists." Jim smirked as Spock's eyes widened at the implication that his father would be speaking with a professional. "At the insistence of Admiral Pike, I'll be speaking to a therapist too. So if they assign you a new captain it's because they discovered I'm too crazy to keep."

No one laughed. Jim sighed, glancing over towards McCoy who gave him a supporting nod. He quirked his lips into a smile when he glanced at Spock.

"Now. I think it's time you all got to tell me what you think of me, don't be stingy on the criticism. I can take it."

"You're immature." McCoy replied almost before he finished.

Jim hung his head immediately, sobbing unrealistically. "That's it. I quit. You're so mean."

"You give up way too soon." Sulu added playfully, tone obviously not serious. "I just don't know if I can work for someone who always gives up and can't see anything through."

"I'm serious. I'm going to jump off a drill." Jim warned. "But not. I want real feedback."

"I believe it is important that you instruct the crew towards reporting to you immediately in the event of any concerns they have. A so called open door policy will encourage discussion and reduce the difficulties stemming from poor communication." Spock told him, to which he nodded.

"I also think it's important that you enact an open door policy of your own." Uhura told Jim, eyes flicking to Spock. "If there's something you want to say, you say it. If you have any reason to think what you have to say may be inappropriate or if you aren't sure it's alright for a captain to say, speak to one of the department heads first. The minute you start holding back important information because you aren't sure is the minute we start breaking down communications and failing to disseminate important information and opinions."

Jim nodded, glancing at the table before meeting her eyes. "I'll take you up on that offer to run things by you first. Even with all of the command classes I took, there are times when how I mean it and how it actually comes out aren't the same."

"I haven't got much to say." Giotto shrugged. "I already communicate quite a bit with my department and we like how much attention you give us. It's been a while since you've come down to the individual departments though."

"Ah think ye have a really good ability ta come up with things that'll change the Federation." Scotty told him. "Yur always getting a new idea in your head. From now on, ye have all of us ta run them by. Ye can'naught be holding back those ideas in embarrassment."

"It is being important that you are taking wery good care of yourself." Chekov scolded. "Ve are needing you to be vell. If you are being sick and collapsing then you can not be kommanding."

"Alright." Jim nodded.

"I think we all know I call you out on your bull and will keep doing it." McCoy snorted. "If you would actually listen to me though, we might not have as many problems."

Jim grinned. "Got it. I'm listening."

"I highly doubt that." Spock deadpanned.

Jim smiled across the table at him and McCoy threw up his hands, rolling his eyes. "I'm dismissing myself."

"You're all dismissed." Jim nodded absently, eyes never leaving Spock.

They vacated the room quickly, eyes darting between the two momentarily as they left. Jim coughed uncomfortably when the door shut. It was the first time he'd been alone with Spock since the last time he ran away. The fact that they had acknowledged they were in love with each other didn't make it easier to be around each other.

"So…" Jim scratched at the back of his hand, staring awkwardly at the table. "Uh…Any criticism?"

"I believe I have already discussed everything I feel will assist your command, at this time." Spock tilted his head to the side, a morose look hinted at in his eyes. "Jim, I believe we should discuss how we will handle our feelings for each other."

Jim winced. "Didn't we have it worked out? Just…Weren't we going to make it easy? Take it slow?"

"I am not averse to 'taking it slow', however it would be dishonest to inform you that I do not wish for our relationship to progress at all. I simply wish to establish proper boundaries now, so that we will not have further misunderstandings."

Jim nodded awkwardly, shrugging a little. "I don't even know where to start though. I mean…what's a good boundary? Are there milestones?"

Spock quirked an eyebrow. "None that I am aware of. However, I believe it would be most productive if I were allowed to woo you with my own discretion. If at any point you were to feel disquieted by my actions, you would of course inform me and I would desist at that time."

Jim flushed a little. "You mean…like a normal relationship?"

"Yes Jim." Spock smirked ever so slightly, fleetingly. "Normal. Or in as much as we can ever be, together."

"I think I'd like that."

… .. .

"We have you here because we need to discuss what you want to do as the captain of the Starfleet flagship." Archer leaned back in his chair, watching Jim and Spock sitting at the table opposite the admirals. "You won't talk to the press, but you need to talk to us. What do you honestly think is going to happen next?"

Jim frowned, sitting up straighter in his seat. "With all due respect, don't you have people who it's their entire job to make these decisions? Isn't it _your_ job?"

Every admiral stared at him a moment, meeting defiant blue eyes and wondering how they could have ever thought that _cadet_ would have been cooperative. There was a fleeting suspicion that they understood exactly what bothered Fitzpatrick so greatly. This wasn't at all aided by the purely unsympathetic look his first officer was giving them, almost mocking them for thinking this would be easy.

When he received no immediate response to his statement, Jim leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs Archer, Barnett, and Pike exchanged three quarters of a glance. With a slow and most definitely exasperated breath in and out his nose, Pike returned his gaze to Jim. The other Admirals were wisely silent, sending messages across their PADDs.

"Believe it or not we usually take our captains opinions into account." Pike drawled, looking over his PADD. "We want to know your gut feelings on this Kirk. You were the one out there, dealing with this first hand."

Jim scrunched up his nose, glancing at Spock. "I would point out I was unconscious for most of that."

"Not what I meant." Pike rolled his eyes. "What's the feel out there? And don't start with comments on how you haven't been out. You know what I'm saying."

… .. .

"I want to go into space."

McCoy glanced up from where he was reading an article, lounging in the observation deck with Jim. "I don't know how to break this to you, Jim, but you're a Starfleet captain. That's all you do."

Jim rolled his eyes. "That's not what I meant. Milk runs, visiting New Vulcan, which is admittedly going to be much better now that I've got friends there, patrolling borders, that isn't space. That's no better than being stuck planet side."

"Then what exactly are you looking for?"

"Space, Bones. I'm looking for everything out there. I want to see it all and I can't do that confined to a couple thousand square light-years." Jim sighed, flopping back. "How about you?"

"You know I'm going where you're going."

"But what do you want? More time near Earth so you can see Joanna? More time away? A signed approval for a relationship with Chapel? Or Uhura? I think you'd have to compete with Scotty for her though…"

"And you had sounded so mature for a minute there." McCoy snorted, never looking up from the PADD after that initial glance. "I don't really know what I want. I figured some time off in space would help me sort it all out."

"Space is not that helpful."

"Just because it gave us you?"

Jim sat up, leaning forward on his knees. "My therapist wants me to comm. him every week. I think I might actually do it. Some of the other captains actually talked to me for the first time the other day, told me how they couldn't have handled it as well and how they have to talk to the therapists just for the deaths of security crew members. I'm nervous that I'm going to get people on my crew hurt. So far I've been told that's a good thing."

"I think I like this therapist of yours." McCoy smiled to himself, hiding it behind the PADD. "Lord knows the one they sent me to has a hornets nest up their-"

"I wouldn't recommend you finish that sentence." Sulu snorted, finally drawing himself out of his book. "It's like they know when you've said something about them."

"What about you?" Jim glanced over at him. "What do you want?"

"Same thing as everyone else on this ship: to explore space and to serve with you." Sulu kicked him lightly as he stretched out on the couch they were all sharing. "Come on, this is the Enterprise, the greatest learning vessel to ever be created."

"That's what I told Pike." Jim admitted.

"You were talking with Pike?" McCoy asked absently.

"All of the admirals."

"So they actually made you do something with that captain's position other than fill out paperwork?" Sulu grinned, even though he wasn't really paying attention anymore.

"You guys suck. I'm going to go play chess with Spock."

"I thought you both hated chess." They said at once, exchanging a glance of confusion.

Jim grinned salaciously. "That is half the fun."

"I just missed something." Sulu announced.

"I just don't want to clean up the mess." McCoy sighed. "Behave."

"Yes sir." Jim said sarcastically, waving over his shoulder as he wandered off to find Spock.

In truth, they were most likely to spend the time in one lesson or another, or meditating. The only reason it wasn't quite work was the fact that these meetings were considered free and open for flirting and discussing their pasts. Jim was already learning, through sharing with Spock, that he had some really good points to his childhood. Both of them did. He hadn't ever really noticed that before and he suspected Spock had not realized it either.

Spock was being surprisingly receptive of Jim's random interruptions, too. There had already been a couple incidents where Jim called Spock for no real reason other than to hear him, completely interrupting the work he was trying to do. Spock took it in good humor, though he refused to 'talk dirty' citing not only that he was working but also that Jim would not be as receptive of such discussion. Jim sheepishly admitted he was probably right and proceeded to talk his ear off for an hour and a half.

… .. .

"I'm just saying, none of you are going to tell me, but I have a pretty good idea of what happened." Uhura dropped the smile she had been wearing previously, turning the discussion more somber in a second.

"Then you also understand why this is a private matter." Spock fixed her with a serious look, warning her not to say anything.

"I do." She agreed. "And if you need any help with how to progress in a healthy relationship, I'll do what I can. I think you and I jumped in to fast, it wasn't good for either of us."

"I appreciate your offer and will consider your advice." Spock's tone of voice, in direct contention with his words, clearly told her to mind her own business.

She laughed. "So do I need to start giving you date ideas that won't end in sex?"

Spock flushed a little. "I believe I am quite capable of not leading our relationship in that direction."

"I know." She teased. "But I don't get the chance to gossip and giggle very often. I'm still an earth girl. I _like_ getting to plan out which outfit to wear on a date and just how close to get to a kiss before heading inside and leaving them gaping at the door. It's fun. Only Chapel does that with me and up until now she was hot for you."

Spock decided to delicately avoid the majority of that comment. "I admit I am curious as to what you told her to persuade her that a relationship with me would not be possible."

Uhura grinned. "You don't want to know. Just…be aware that she is most definitely…ah…in favor of the relationship now? But try not to do anything romantic with Jim in front of her for a while. You might overload her brain."

He quirked an eyebrow, leaving her hyperbole alone. He could hypothesize what she may have implied or said to the over enthusiastic nurse. That was not the immediate concern. He had the chance, now, to confide in someone he trusted deeply and, it occurred to him, she may have some idea of how a normal relationship was supposed to progress.

He was drawn from his musings by his communicator going off. "Yes?"

"Hey, Spock." Jim's voice filtered nervously over the air waves.

Uhura sat up straight, eyes widening and grin going big and pleased. Spock tried to ignore it.

"Yes Captain?"

"What'cha wearing?" Jim's voice was teasing.

"I am currently dressed in the regulation uniform for science personnel." Uhura rolled her eyes, throwing a pillow at him.

Jim chuckled though, sounding genuinely pleased. "Mm. Love it. Want to meet up?"

Spock quirked an eyebrow at the communicator, momentarily neglecting to account for the fact that Jim could not see it. Uhura slapped her hands over her mouth to stifle her giggle.

"Say 'fascinating'." Jim ordered before he could respond. "You always do that eyebrow thing when you say fascinating and I just know you're doing it."

If possible, Spock's eyebrow hitched up a little higher. "Fascinating."

There was a choked laugh. "God you're amazing. Why do you humor me so much?"

"I believe you already know the answer to your question Jim." Uhura was mouthing the word 'flirt' at him, a teasingly disapproving look in her eyes.

"You know, I'd ask you to slip into something sexy and meet me at my quarters, but I think it has more to do with you than the outfit. Everything looks great." Jim purred.

Spock flushed, watching Uhura bury her red face in her pillow, dieing from amusement. "I believe you made reference to a meeting of some sort?"

"Yeah." Jim's tone went almost, _almost_ professional, though it still held a playful, charming note. "I have important ship business to discuss with you. Highly important. I need a safe and unassuming way to usurp Bones of his position as my best friend and I thought you might like the position."

"I feel I must inquire as to what would be the requirements of this position you are offering me."

"Mm. Long walks on the ship, late nights on the observation deck gazing at the stars…" Jim's voice dipped a touch deeper. "Alone time during shore leave."

Spock's eye very nearly twitched involuntarily. "Am I to believe you shared such things with the Doctor previously?"

"Oh my god." Jim laughed. "I was _flirting_ with you! I'd never-not like that! Not with Bones. You jealous Vulcan. I was amending the position a little."

Spock straightened in what was most certainly not indignation. "I see."

"Seriously though…" Jim gulped audibly. "I…I was wondering if…maybe…if you weren't busy…or…anything…if you'd…like…to go on a date with me. Our…_first_…date…"

Uhura's eyes softened and she nudged Spock at the unsure tone. She promptly shook her head and pointed to his clothes in exasperation. He glanced down and furrowed his brow before looking up at her questioningly. She mouthed something at him and he nodded.

"Uh…you could answer any time buddy." Jim said nervously and Spock realized he had not responded.

"Forgive me, I was contemplating something." Spock replied quickly. "I would appear I will need to change, if we are to have a casual outing. However I would be inclined to accept your offer."

"Great. I'll see you soon."

… .. .

The news was all over the Federation, flooding every channel. The Cardassians were nowhere in sight. The Klingons had fled back to their territory, though they made no official withdrawal from the war. And the Enterprise…

The Enterprise was to continue their five year mission, searching out new life and exploring the unknowns of the universe. The celebration had been monumental, greater than even when Nero was defeated. They all knew each other, cared for each other and had come to be something of a family together.

Jim smiled as he watched his crew, _his crew_, celebrate.

"How is it you can make the worst of disasters work out in your favor?" Winona threw her arms around her son's shoulders. "This shouldn't have been a win for you. Not even with the way it turned out."

"I'm just lucky." Jim knocked their heads together lightly, smiling softly. "Luckiest guy in the universe."

"Mm." She smiled into his shoulder, shaking her head. "I don't know what's going on between you two, and I don't think you'll ever actually tell me everything, but you should know that his father and I are planning your wedding."

Jim snorted, terror not clutching at his chest like it would have before at the mention of him and Spock. "I thought you wanted grandbabies?"

"You haven't heard?" Winona leaned back, giving him an amused look. "Sam has a fiancée now. She's lovely."

Jim grinned. "I'll have to meet her someday."

"You aren't protesting our planning out your whole ceremony?" She let go, slapping his shoulder. "I thought you'd be all 'stay out of it' or 'I don't have feelings for him' or something."

Jim shook his head, eyes finding Spock in the crowd, where he was conversing with Uhura, McCoy, and Scotty. "I'm starting to figure out that maybe there's more to this whole 'love' thing than hating the world around you."

She smiled brightly at him. "Look at you, all grown up. Your father would be proud."

Jim caught her hand, squeezing it gently. "All that matters now is, are you?"

"Yes." She whispered, words catching in her throat. "I'm so proud of you baby."

Jim glanced sideways, throat feeling tight. "I've been talking to a therapist. I really think I can do this. And…I think I'm going to be alright. I have an amazing crew, amazing friends, and all the opportunities in the universe."

"You've really grown up." Winona sighed, regretful smile in place. "I just wish I could have been there for it."

"You're here now. And I've still got a long way to go." Jim smirked. "Now tell me a little more about these wedding plans. It might just give me a goal to work towards."

She chuckled.

Across the room, Chekov rocketed against Spock, the third such since the announcement. He'd tackled Jim five times. Sulu cackled, racing up and slapping Scotty on the shoulder.

"Hey guys. Uhura." Sulu beamed. "What do you think, now?"

"Now?" She quirked an eyebrow. "But it isn't done."

Sulu snorted. "It'll never be _done_. But that's the whole fun in it. Come on. Now would be the perfect time."

"To what are you referring?" Spock glanced at McCoy, seeing that he was just as bemused.

"Alright." Uhura sighed, dropping her shoulders. "Go ask the Captain."

"Da!" Chekov detangled himself, hurriedly looking the room over until he spotted Jim. "I vill be doing!"

He was off like a bolt and Sulu careened after him, dodging personnel and laughing heartily. Spock winged up an eyebrow, glancing at Uhura. She just shook her head, promising to be back shortly as she started towards the stage. McCoy sighed, glancing back to where Jim was speaking with the pair…and Scotty…before turning to Spock.

"So do you two have everything worked out now?"

"Jim has agreed to allow me to court him in a traditional manner." Spock nodded once, amusement coloring his voice ever so slightly. "We are…taking it slow, I believe he said."

"That's good." McCoy nodded. "If you still love him in five years, he's worth it."

Spock raised both eyebrows in mock surprise. "You would have me believe it is possible to stop loving him?"

McCoy snorted. "I wouldn't want to get your hopes up by implying that. I think you two might just be stuck with each other."

"I am not adverse to that." Spock watched as Chekov careened past, nearly striking him in his haste, Sulu and Scotty, who he had not seen leave, racing after. "This ship is often quite stimulating. I believe our new implementations will prove quite successful."

"I can't believe you made my Sickbay into a learning hospital." McCoy growled playfully, watching Uhura light up as the boys talked to her. "A bunch of medical interns on _this_ ship."

"I believe that the best possible internship they could serve would be under you."

McCoy's eyes widened and he turned to call him out on his compliment when Uhura called for everyone's attention. Eyes swiftly turned to Jim and then her. She sighed exasperatedly, smiling.

"Over the last month or so, a select handful of my staff, and the selected few of the other Starfleet ships have been working on a special report at Captain Kirk's request." Uhura started, earning a hush over the room. "We have a long way to go, but we feel that it's time to share now just what it is Jim has us doing. You see, our captain decided to embrace everything the Federation stands for in this order."

"Just tell them already!" Jim yelled across the room, voice carrying easily.

"Loud mouth." She snorted into the microphone, earning raucous laughs. "Alright already. Alright. The report we've composed, that we will be releasing in the next few days and will continue to update as we gain more information, is all about-"

"Seriously." Jim groaned. "Is this going to take long?"

"Do you want to come up here and do it yourself?" Uhura placed her hands on her hips, glaring playfully at his banter. "Because I can step aside you glory hound."

"You're my communications officer, isn't it your job?"

"How the hell are you so loud?" She whined. "You don't have a microphone. We'd already be done if you stopped interrupting."

The room rippled with laughter and she sighed, smiling. Jim certainly knew how to get a crowed in the mood he wanted. With amusement hanging in the air, she pulled her hair from the bun she had tied it up in, giving in to the casual feeling. There was a wolf whistle, sounding distinctly like Jim, and she shook her head.

"Alright. Now if all present captains are done…" She grinned. "I'd like to welcome all of you to read our report on the cultural trends of friendship and the accepted standard ways to indicate a desire for friendship in different cultures. We're fighting to stop misunderstandings and make it so everyone has a chance to have friends no matter where they're from."

There was a moment of stunned silence before cheers of sheer exuberating filled the air. Spock turned back to stare a Jim, eyes wide. He winked across the room, blue eyes dancing with mirth. It seemed he wouldn't need it anymore. He was going to be sure that the first thing on that list, no matter who was speaking to whom, was that every party involved make sure they were one hundred percent sure about what was being discussed. Poor communication kills, more than just what they told him in the academy.

The party returned to its full swing and McCoy patted Spock's shoulder absently, murmuring something about talking to someone. It was intentionally vague, Spock could tell, as more of an excuse to give Spock the chance to speak to Jim.

Jim was grinning wildly at his as he made his way over. "What do you think? Am I shaping up to be one of those mature people everyone keeps telling me about?"

"Indeed." Spock gripped his hands at his back, both eyebrows raised ever so slightly. "I admit I am somewhat astonished that no one has before put forward the idea of such a massive cultural report that could very well be the most valuable resource the Federation will have in future interactions."

Jim shook his head innocently. "You'd be surprised how often we don't put together full, easily accessible reports on the simplest of things. Even our information on most cultures is spread out over many different reports and books, never putting them all in one straightforward place."

"Perhaps no one has considered the practical applications of such things before."

"I know I can't be the first."

"Yet you are singularly capable of undertaking what would be deemed an impossible task to even approach by any other being."

"My communication crew, and several other communication crews, handled it, not me."

"For one who was once so unfettered in his boisterous nature, you are making it exceedingly difficult to complement you." Spock furrowed his brow in annoyance.

Jim smiled sheepishly, flushing. "Oh."

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him. "Are you feeling well, Captain?"

"Better than ever." Jim grinned. "You do know our parents are planning our marriage, right?"

Spock raised both eyebrows in amused surprise. "Affirmative. I was not, however aware they were willing to discuss it with us."

Jim laughed heartily. "How did you figure that out?"

"They became exceedingly close to one another after their initial meeting. It became apparent that they were conspiring in regards to us shortly after I discovered they were discussing their own youths with one another. Specifically, they were comparing the events associated with Vulcan and Terran weddings."

"See, I'm going to stop getting hurt because I miss all the fun."

"That would please me greatly Jim."

"You know it isn't actually going to happen, right?"

"I do not suspect as much, but I will continue to…desire…that this is the case."

"I'll put you in an early grave." Jim promised. "You're going to die of worry some day. It'll be a heart attack or something."

Spock quirked and eyebrow at him, clearly conveying just how illogical that statement was. He made an offhand comment about Vulcans not feeling worry. Jim just smiled, shaking his head affectionately.

… .. .

"Take us out Mr. Sulu." Jim nodded, glancing sideways at Spock.

"Another successful first encounter, Captain." Spock nodded to him, eyes smiling, warm swirls of chocolate and ebony.

"I think I'm getting better at these first impressions." Jim's eyes practically sparkled as he turned a gleaming smile on his First Officer.

"Affirmative." Spock stood, walking over to Jim's side. "With the exception of a number of highly unusual encounters, your record as Captain is nearly flawless."

"That didn't sound much like a compliment." Jim told him, pouting.

"I do not suspect anyone could handle the atypical nature of some of our more extraordinary missions as well as you have, Jim."

Jim grinned wildly, offering two fingers in a kiss. Spock greedily pressed their hands together, perfectly composed with the exception of the pure adoration and love in his eyes. Jim's smile softened at that, more natural, more affectionate, his eyes reflecting his own reverence and adulation.

"For god's sake get a room you two." McCoy grumbled.

The bridge laughed, but Jim stood from his seat. "Sulu, you have the conn. I'm taking lunch with my boyfriend."

"Yes Captain." Sulu smirked, glancing at Chekov.

"Shall we?" Jim offered his hand.

Spock immediately took it, the corners of his lips twitching in pleased amusement. "Of course, Jim."

They walked off the bridge together, hand in hand, sharing a look that spoke volumes of how far they had come together. And they knew that they would meet the future together, ready for anything. Sometimes, it would get rough, but they'd take it one step at a time. And they wouldn't fall anymore, but lead each other into love one sure foot in front of the other. The great unknown was in front of them, and they were ready to explore it.

… … .. . .. … …

**So there you have it. Something like four weeks short of a year later.**


End file.
